


Marauders: First Year

by flumen



Series: Marauders Era [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Hogwarts First Year, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Indian James Potter, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Marauders' Era, Pre-Relationship, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-08-27 07:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16697926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flumen/pseuds/flumen
Summary: James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew (in that order) all board the Hogwarts Express at the start of their first year filled with excitement and trepidation. They're very different boys from very different backgrounds, all trapped by their own vices and the elusive Boy's Code and each desperate, in their own way, to make real friends. This is the story of their first year at Hogwarts and chronicles how the Era of the Marauders begun.I know it says Wolfstar and Jily in the tags but in reality this is VERY pre-relationship so be warned in relation to that. Hope you enjoy!





	1. Dislocated

**Author's Note:**

> Wow so this is my first ever chapter on ao3! Am I doing this right? I sort of skipped the tutorial...This is a story I'm rewriting from wattpad and just a warning that uploads could be sporadic: I'll try my best but life is pretty time-consuming. Let me know what you think of my take on the Marauders (bearing in mind, that is, that we're still in first year and they're not quite the swashbuckling rogues we know and love)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James, Sirius, Remus and Peter each wake up in the Gryffindor dormitory. They go through slightly different thought processes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've edited this a lil since I first posted it :)

James Potter woke up in a room he didn’t recognise and with a bubbling feeling of excitement in his gut it took a minute to explain. His surroundings were blurry and he groped to his left where his bedside table should have been for his glasses. Only his hand hung limply in thin air and with a sudden shock, he recognised the scarlet and gold shades that took up most of his fuzzy vision. Lurching into a sitting position, he felt an impish grin unfurl across his face. Hogwarts. Not only Hogwarts but _Gryffindor_.

His parents were going to be so chuffed. Gryffindor, where dwell the brave of heart! There had truly never been any doubt, but even he had been shocked by the speed with which he’d been housed. The hat had practically scoffed as it had touched his head:

_Euphemia’s son, eh? In that case there’s no question. GRYFFINDOR!_

Professor McGonagall had barely had time to withdraw the hat before he was bounding down from the stool, shaking hands with some prefect and ever so subtly saving a seat…

James already felt at home at Hogwarts; in some ways he had always known he would. He had grown up hearing stories of the great stone castle to the point where it had become a childhood staple, making an appearance in practically every bedtime story. His father would tirelessly recount his studies and then when he’d exhausted both James and the curriculum, his mother would take over. He couldn’t put into words the magic she’d somehow imbue into every animated tale: midnight romping across the grounds, transfiguring turtles into bowler hats or snowball fighting in Hogsmeade square.

To finally be here, burrowed in his own Gryffindor dorm surrounded by his own wizarding peers, and who knew what each of them would become to him, was like being thrust centre stage into a comforting dream. The only thing missing was his mother’s voice, her long black hair tickling his cheek, perhaps his own books and toys… but he wouldn’t be homesick. James had already decided that Gryffindor house would be his new home. There was no need to mourn for the one he’d left behind when all the friendship, mischief and adventure was to be found here.

Clumsily, James wriggled to the end of his bed where he could just make out his glasses positioned carefully atop his trunk. He rammed them onto his face, perhaps with a little too much excited force, and breathed in his surroundings with relish.

The room was wicked, James decided, far cooler than his at Potter manor. Lying on his stomach and gazing upward, the beamed ceiling seemed miles above him and streamed with dusty light. The walls were made of cobbled stone and frequented by tall, paned windows. Stumbling over to one, bare feet clapping against the cold, wooden floor, he realised with delight that he had a perfect view of the Quidditch pitch and the outskirts of the forbidden forest: a rustling mass of evergreens that cast a dark shadow and filled him with an adventurous longing. Draping himself in the musty red curtain he tried to see if he could make out any centaurs through the trees and when he could not, decided he’d have to go in and hunt them for himself. Just the thought made his heart giddy.

The whole room was circular, cavernous and felt very big to a boy of eleven years old. There was a creaking wooden door that James was disappointed to find only led to a mundane, damp bathroom but then he spotted a curious patch of mould and was once again enthralled. To anyone else the old dorm would have smelt like must, feet and mildew but all James could taste was enchantment and excitement yet to come. And perhaps a little mildew, but as he had observed at least it was orange and furry and nothing like the typical mottled blues and greys that clogged up the drain at home.

As James was inspecting the tiles for more growths, now determined to discover a new form of magical life, Sirius Black was blearily coming to his senses, grappling his way out of the depths of a nightmare. For a few seconds he thrashed: there was a raven with cruel black eyes, silver and green snakes that sank their fangs into his ankles, clinging even as he shook them and a whole pride of lions that chased him through a jungle, so close they snatched at his heels. When he finally, truly awoke it was with the sense that one had just made a deadly lunge for the back of his neck.

At first he too experienced James’ moment of confusion, panting as his subconscious withdrew its beasts and the quiet light of the morning filtered through. Eventually he regained enough nerve to muster a grim smile. Hogwarts, he recalled. He was in Hogwarts. And not only Hogwarts but _Gryffindor_.

His mother was going to go ballistic… that was, only if she hadn’t already heard. Didn’t Hogwarts send out helpful little letters to first year parents, maybe with a commemorative certificate or sticker for their cauldron? “My kid’s a humongous, blood-traitor disappointment!” He recalled the parting words his mother had offered him on the train station, a vice-like grip on his arm, dragging a hand through his hair. Her rings were cold and dug into his scalp but her tone was soft and measured, almost reassuring to a stranger’s ears. However Sirius recognised the words she chose were blunt and apathetic, as if she were talking to an adult rather than to her son, minutes away from being whisked into the Scottish moors far from her influence.

“You’ll be an ambassador for our house, Sirius, and cease this obstinacy henceforth; that was childishness and I expect more from you now. You’ll make friends of our own fine calibre, make sure of that. And do not,” Here she knotted her fingers in his hair, and he knew she could pull if she wanted to. “Do not disappoint us.”

From some adjoining room there came a crow of delight and then a yelp of terror in a voice Sirius recognised as James Potter’s, the bespectacled boy he’d sat with on the train. The one who had stood and cheered when he’d been sorted into Gryffindor, the first one to do so. James Potter who Sirius had sort of begun to think of as a friend. Somehow he doubted this was what is mother had anticipated when she had suggested “high calibre”.

“Well sod my mother.” Sirius said aloud and then flinched despite himself, half-anticipating a reprimand. When nothing came, he felt relieved enough to laugh at himself. He was in Hogwarts! He was in _Gryffindor_. What could Walburga Black do to him here? She was miles, nay, worlds away from him now. For the first time in a long time, Sirius Black experienced a sort of lightness over his heart. He could do whatever he wanted, be friends with whoever he wanted and screw the consequences until the next holiday.

The words of the sorting hat came to him: _You’ll do well in Gryffindor, Sirius, you’ll thrive there. I think you’re in good need of some freedom, lad, and you’ve got the right heart for it._ The defiant cry of GRYFFINDOR had been simultaneously the best and worst sound Sirius had ever heard. Now he was beginning to sense it would become the former.

He sank down against his pillows and smiled at the view from the windows, the unidentifiable lumps sleeping soundly around him and James Potter’s pitter-pattering in the bathroom. When his head emerged a few seconds later, peering out from behind the door frame in mild terror and instructed Sirius to “right now come here and look at this because mate I think it’s breathing” he didn’t even hesitate. He scrabbled right out of bed and ran to join him.

Peter Pettigrew awoke hungry. He was always hungry in the mornings so it took him a while to even look past this and notice anything different about where he was awakening. Hogwarts, his mind supplied sluggishly, he was at the wizarding school and he’d been sorted into the lion house, the one the old head teacher had used to be a part of. At first this hadn’t exactly endeared Peter to it, the funny bearded headmaster looked like the kind of man his mother would tell him had germs, but eventually he’d warmed up to the idea, especially after he’d heard a cool, confident looking boy say it was the house of the brave. Peter had never exactly considered himself as brave but he supposed now he’d have to try to be if he wanted to make any real friends.

How did brave people get out of bed? Cautiously he placed two feet on the ground and then swung onto his feet. Just like that, he supposed, although maybe with a bit more of a stride perhaps? He tried one wide, bold step forward and then felt very foolish as a burst of giggles echoed from the bathroom. They weren’t directed at him, he quickly realised, but then cursed himself for being afraid of them at all. It seemed like tough work to be brave.

Just like it had seemed tough work to decide whether or not he was brave in the first place. He had sat on that stool wearing the hat for what had felt like hours, until he was a mass of pins and needles but too scared to move, as it had hummed and hawed in his brain, the voice reverberating strangely around his head. It hadn’t even considered the clever blue house and had quickly dismissed the yellow badgers but it had seemed bent between his house, Gryffindor, and the other one, Slytherin.

 _You could be brave._ The hat had repeated for the third time. _I feel as if you have the potential for it, boy, if the right thing was at stake but perhaps your nature more lends itself to Slytherin…yes, that may be so… but then where would you be the happiest? That’s the trickiest question of all…_

In the end all it had taken was Peter to quietly whisper he was afraid of snakes, and almost in a frustrated rush the hat had screamed GRYFFINDOR and that was that.

Now he wasn’t sure if it had made the right choice. Darn, that one misstep had taken a lot out of him. Perhaps he ought to go and see what the boys in the bathroom were laughing about? Peter always found he felt a lot better when he knew he had some friends.

When he entered the cold little room, what a misery it’d be washing in here he thought to himself a his toes curled against the brace, he found the cool boy who’d called Gryffindor the brave house and his friend, the sleek looking one with the glossy black hair down to his shoulders like a girl’s. Peter rejoiced at his good luck; fancy sharing a dorm with two of the loudest, boldest boys he’d met so far? They were both in pyjamas and hunched over something in the far corner, wands drawn and poking the wall experimentally. For a moment Peter considered going back to retrieve his own wand and then decided against it. May as well get it over with.

“Morning chaps.” He said and both the boys flinched around, wands raised almost threateningly. Peter eyed them and gave a nervous smile. “Er, what are you looking at?”

The one with the curly black hair of normal length and the bottle-top glasses went to speak but seemed to be cut off by the other who looked at Peter with his nose raised in a way that made him feel very small and out of place. Perhaps like that mould behind them, noxious looking and orange.

“Nothing.” He said, rising to his feet and dragging the other boy with him. “We were just getting dressed. Right James?”

The James in question looked confused but smiled convivially. “Yeah sure. You probably should too um…”

“Peter. Peter Pettigrew.”

“Right. Muggle born?” There was nothing malicious in the way James said it but Peter felt uncomfortable anyway as he nodded.

“Nice. See you.” And he allowed himself to be herded from the room. Peter stood on the cold tiles feeling not very brave and rather as if he’d just missed an opportunity. Putting it down to experience, he slowly retraced his steps to his bed and kept his distance as he dressed.

Remus Lupin didn’t emerge for a long time, long past when Frank Longbottom joined the others and took the customary ribbing at the expense of his surname in good sport. He lay well into when the rest of them were all dressed and ready for breakfast, past even when Sirius was ready having decided that actually scarlet did happen to suit his complexion after all and his shirt looked better French tucked when paired with the cut of his robes.

“I can’t stand those specs on you.” He said to James after he’d teased the lengths he was going to in his dress. “You look like you’re wearing magnifying glasses. You are James Potter as in those Potters, right?”

“The pure-blood blood-traitors?” James said with notable pride in his voice. “Yup. Those ones exactly. Bet you didn’t think you’d be sharing a dorm with someone like me on your first day.”

“Actually I rather hoped I would be.” Sirius grinned. “If only for the look on my mother’s face when she asked me if I’d made any nice friends. So if you’re James Potter, of-the-Sleak-easy-fortune Potter, you’ve got no excuse for either that hair _or_ those glasses.”

James laughed. “What can I say; clearly you can’t buy off genetics. My dad’s as blind as a bat as well. He hasn’t seen in 20-20 vision for fifty years.”

“Should we wake him?” Frank asked, eyeing the enclosed bed of their final roommate with trepidation. “I mean it’s breakfast in less than ten minutes.”

“We could…” Sirius said slowly. “Or…”

“Or we could see who gets their time tables the fastest.” James finished, slinging his bag over his shoulder and making a mad dash for the stair well. “Race you!”

“You’ve had a head start!” Sirius yelled, catapulting after him. “Oi James! Bloody muggle-lover.”

Frank deviated for a moment and then followed after them at a more sensible pace, reluctant to be left behind. Peter was torn, meanwhile, between continuing to pursue James and Sirius, who were of course the ideal, or taking a risk on whoever was behind those hangings. In the end, his own anxiety won out. He drew back the curtains to reveal a pale boy with ruffled sandy hair squinting against the sudden morning light. Internally he let out a sigh of relief at the sight of someone so normal. Externally he said “Morning. It’s breakfast and I’m Peter Pettigrew. Want to sit with me in the hall?”

Remus Lupin had been in a strange, drowsy state somewhere between sleep and consciousness but buried in deep thought all the same. The night before after the feast he'd been drawn aside and a very uncomfortable conversation had commenced between himself, the stern Professor McGonagall and a fluttering lady introduced as Madame Pomfrey who had asked at least three times to take him in immediately under examination and at one point had tried to force a thermometer into his ear. Or at least, he'd assumed it was a thermometer... Either way, the discussion had lasted well into the night and what had already been a late evening devolved into the early hours of the morning. Then he'd had a lot to think about even after he'd settled into his dorm... they'd planted a dangerous tree out on the grounds just for the sake of his transformations... he'd have to convolute some excuse for monthly disappearances, trips to the medical wing, bandages and bruises... Needless to say he had not had the best sleep.

And then, much like Peter, he had his concerns about Gryffindor house: the house of the brave, bold and wild. He couldn’t exactly see himself falling into those categories or at least not as himself. The sorting had thrown him with that. He had expected to be sorted into Ravenclaw, exactly as his father had. He had barely considered anywhere else and he almost felt disgruntled at the sorting hat for the change of plan, even if he had been somewhat flattered with its assessment:

_A troubled young mind, child, but a courageous soul beneath all of that. And curiosity, such a deep curiosity everything else will drown in it, you mark my words. What’s this? Consigned to books have we? Ravenclaw, eh? No, my boy, I don’t think that’s where I’ll be putting you. To read about adventure is all well and good but you, now you’ve a need to experience it. In which case… GRYFFINDOR._

He had been thrown, that Remus would admit. And now this stranger, this downright stranger was holding out a hand. Should he take it? Before he’d decided it would be best to stay alone at Hogwarts; it’d make studying the easiest and for a time, when the castle had seemed such an unrealistic goal, all he’d wanted to do was study. But now he was here, and in Gryffindor of all places, and so decided there could be no harm in making a few revisions to his earlier plans. Perhaps he could afford one friend, one nice, well-mannered friend like Peter.

“Yes, actually, that’d be nice Peter.” He said, yawning and stretching so his back crackled and popped. “And thank you for waking me. Where are the others?”

“Already downstairs at breakfast.”

“Gosh is it that late?” Remus said, now mildly alarmed. He hadn’t anticipated being late on his first day, not when he had been ready to behave so perfectly. “I’d best get a move on then.”

“Are you a muggle-born?” Peter asked suddenly, as Remus was yanking on a pair of trousers and wrestling with his tie.

“Hm? Oh no, half-blood.” When Peter looked blank he elaborated. “My dad’s a wizard but my mum’s a muggle.”

Not quite, Peter privately thought. He had been excited for a real wizarding friend, someone entrenched in the magical world like James or Sirius. Still, half-blood would have to do. “That’s really cool. So you knew all about Hogwarts before you even came here? I don’t know a thing.”

Here Remus chuckled. “Well no, not really. I didn’t think I’d be coming. It feels a miracle even to be here.”

“Really.” Peter said dully. Well that was even worse. It was nice to know someone else was as out of their depth as he was but he had anticipated his potential friend would be able to show him the ropes.

“Which is why we can’t be late. Could you imagine being in trouble on out first day? Nightmare.” Remus gave a genuine shiver at the thought. The idea of breaking the rules, breaking any rules when his position as a student was already so insecure, made him sick to his stomach even to think about. “Now quick we’d better go. I heard their handing out our time tables. I do hope we’ve got Defence Against the Dark Arts, it looked so interesting I read the whole textbook.”

Hardly an ideal friend, Peter thought again. But he’d have to do. And so together, but also dislocated, they descended the spiralling staircase and took the first steps forward into their futures.


	2. Welcome to the Jungle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's James, Sirius, Remus and Peter's very first day at Hogwarts. Intro the girls and the curse of the DADA Professor perseveres.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is loooooong but I knew what I wanted in it. Enjoy!  
> Edit: So I've pretty majorly edited this to change the direction of the story cos huh... would'ya look at that... Bellatrix wasn't at Hogwarts when Sirius was. Sorry it took so long!

The corridors of Hogwarts were like a frothing, angry river of students. Most people strode forward with a single-minded determination to **get that bread** and bacon in the great hall. Amongst them, terrified first-years scuttled in and out of legs, at risk of being crushed underfoot. Accumulated along the walls, the upper years appeared impervious to it all, chatting and tossing bits of paper over the heads of the crowd.

As Sirius, James and tag-along Frank passed a particularly rowdy bunch of seventh year Gryffindors, they dodged a hex that flew just past their noses and struck a Slytherin in the face. For a moment he twitched madly and then slowly feelers began to sprout from his head, like watching a plant grow sped-up.

“What!?” James gasped as the Gryffindors roared in delight and the metamorphosed Slytherin launched himself at the firer of the spell. They had to drag themselves away a few moments later after Professor Sprout had appeared and broken up the blossoming duel. By the time they arrived in the great hall, Sirius was insisting he had seen someone trading billywig stings and Frank looked rather as if he wanted to go back to bed.

“I have never heard so many people talking in my life.” He said in a haunted tone that made James want to roll his eyes.

“Welcome to Hogwarts, Longbottom. Everybody in the wizarding world knows this school is nuts and everybody in the wizarding world wants to get in anyway.”

“You know if the exam results weren’t so good I would have been shipped off to some god-awful military school in Bulgaria.” Sirius shivered. “Imagine living in Bulgaria. There’d be nothing to do except practice the dark arts and choreograph baton routines.”

They found a stretch of bench, big enough for three, and squeezed onto it. Around and across from them, Gryffindors chattered and laughed, actually excited for the first school day in a way you only could be at Hogwarts. The ceiling reflected their mood: a merry, baby blue that was already swarming with owls carrying doting messages from absent parents. On the other side of the hall, a first year Ravenclaw opened their envelope to a burst of confetti, a chorus of “Te Deum” and a jubilant cry of “Thank God you’re not a Hufflepuff like your father!”

After the laughter had died down and the blushing Ravenclaw had muffled the singing, Sirius couldn’t resist saying “I mean they’re not wrong. Blimey, who’d want to be in Hufflepuff?”

Upon the teacher’s table, Dumbledore smiled genially over the chaos, skilfully avoiding dribbling any porridge into the swathes of his beard. Professor Dumbledore was a very impressive old man, James had always thought. He looked exactly the way an old man should look and exactly the way James was going to aim to look when he was older. His half-moon spectacles made him look wise and trustworthy but he dressed like something out a muggle carnival, wrapped in purple and green robes embroidered with stars and sunbeams. He also had one of those gazes that appeared to draw everyone in at once: with one sweep of his eyes he could make contact with every child in the hall. In fact, in the very moment he was thinking that, James could have sworn the headmaster did catch his eye and his smile minutely widened as if he knew exactly what had just crossed his mind.

“My mother said he was a muggle-loving old coot.” Sirius whispered suddenly, so close to James’ ear that he jumped. “And I don’t think you could say he doesn’t look a little bonkers. Where did he get those robes? A charity shop?”

“Well I think he looks incredible.”

“Oh I never said he didn’t.” Sirius replied. “But he _does_ look bonkers. Uh oh, speaking of. Here comes trouble.”

Remus and Peter had just arrived at the mouth of the great hall and were thanking their lucky stars they’d survived the trip. They’d already had their feet stamped on, their shoulders bashed and ducked a horde of ghosts just traversing their way through the corridors and now were simply desperate to find a place to sit and have some breakfast (if Peter had been hungry when he woke up, it was nothing compared to how his stomach gnawed now). Upon honing in on their dorm mates, Peter grasped Remus by the robes and manhandled him over to a seat beside them. All of which is worth noting, but not the trouble to which Sirius was referring.

“It’s that girl from the train. The one with the greasy boy.” James said in delight, barely registering Peter’s eager greeting as he slid into a seat beside him. Sure enough, Lily Evans was being frog-marched towards them, pinned between two other girls and looking rather as if she was being held hostage. One had hair so blonde it was white and cut short so it exploded from her head like a dandelion. Her mouth was opening and closing incessantly and they could just pick up some of the things she was saying over the rest of the hall: “So you were actually raised a muggle? And you live in a semi-detached house? Oh how quaint, sweetie you must tell me more!”

The other was a black girl with glossy ringlets and golden-wire framed glasses. One arm was slung with a floral satchel and the other was linked delicately through Lily’s. She was listening to the other girl talk with an expression of fond devotion and every now and again would bubble over with a snorting giggle. When she noticed the boys were blatantly staring, all except Remus who had taken out a book underneath the table, she extricated herself and tugged on the blonde girl’s robes. Within a few moments they were sauntering over.

Lily greeted James with an expression of mild distaste. “Hello again.” He said cheerfully. “Lily, was it?”

“That’s Evans to you.” The blonde girl intercepted in a posh, high tone. “You’re James Potter, right? You made an awful scene yesterday evening.” The delighted smile on her face communicated just how awful she’d actually found said scene. “Standing up like that? I thought the Gryffindor prefects were going to have heart attacks.”

“All on my behalf I’m afraid.” Sirius said, returning her smile suavely and rising to his feet to take her hand. “Sirius Black, of those Blacks before you ask. And wait, don’t tell me. McKinnon.”

The blonde girl shook his hand with pleasure. “Marlene McKinnon. Aren’t we related?”

“Oh, probably.” Sirius said dismissively. “The bloodlines all cross somewhere along the tree.”

“Anachronistic.” Remus muttered to himself, finding it rather hard to focus on red caps.

“And this is Frank Longbottom.” Sirius said with a flourish, gesturing towards their reluctant companion.

“Now we _are_ related.” Marlene decided taking and shaking his hand as well which made him go a bright pink all the way through to his ears. “Second cousins twice removed, am I correct?”

“If you say so.” Frank chuckled nervously, taking a long swig of pumpkin juice so he didn’t have to speak.

“Alright then though, _Evans_?” James prodded again. “Enjoying Hogwarts?”

“Don’t actually call me that. But it’s magnificent.” Lily said, all discontent melting from her face. “I just can’t believe it’s real.”

“Lily didn’t even know the portraits moved.” The girl with the glasses said in excitement.

“This is Dorcas, by the way.” Lily said with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. “And no, I didn’t. In the… muggle world they stay where you painted them.”

“That’s just weird.” James and Sirius said in unison and then turned to point at each other.

“Don’t copy me!”

“I wasn’t!”

“Then why did you say the same thing as I did?”

“I spoke first!”

“I’m a muggleborn too actually.” Came Peter’s voice from over James’ shoulder, eager to shoe-horn himself into the conversation. “It’s all really… er… magical isn’t it.”

“Concisely put, I suppose so.” Lily responded dryly and Peter tactically returned to his toast.

“Where’s that Slytherin friend of yours?” James asked and she suddenly stiffened. “One with the greasy hair, nose the size of a small planet? Kept waffling on about Salazar Slytherin, his glorious, noble house-”

“Severus you mean.” She interrupted shortly but Marlene’s interest was already piqued.

“Ooo, who’s Severus? How do you already have a friend in another house?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Lily snapped and Marlene raised her hands placatingly.

“Ok, ok, hold your hippogriffs! I was just asking. Anywho, we’d better be finding somewhere to eat. It looks like McGonagall will be handing out our timetables any second now.” She slung one arm over Lily’s shoulder, who still looked irritated, and the other around Dorcas. “Bye bye boys!”

As they retreated, James just managed to overhear Lily say “You know, in the muggle world we say hold your horses…” and Marlene to respond with an ecstatic gasp before they were all the way down the other end of the table and completely out of earshot.

“I like her.” James grinned.

“Who?” Sirius said, startled.

“Lily, or Evans rather. Did you see the way she shut Peter down? I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from laughing.”

“Mate, she looked like she wanted to murder you. And she’s friends with that Slytherin.”

“Everybody makes mistakes.”

“That’s one gargantuan mistake. Severus.” Sirius said the name as if it tasted foul in his mouth. “And the sorting hat said his name was Snape. I don’t know any Snapes.”

“Maybe he’s a muggleborn.” James suggested and then the dismissed the theory just as fast. “No, Slytherin doesn’t take muggleborns. Half blood?”

“Could be. God, let’s not even talk about him. It creeps me out that there are people like my family who aren’t even in my family.”

“Those girls creeped me out.” Frank said and Sirius could feel himself growing slightly impatient with him. He’d thought Frank was an all right sort but he was beginning to sound like a scaredy-cat.

“Scared of a few girls?” James laughed. “Although I won’t lie, that Marlene made me feel like I was being interrogated. Tell you who you should be scared of,” Up on the teachers table the heads of house were gathering up stacks of paper and walking down amongst the students, “Minerva McGonagall.”

“My mother talks about her all the time.” Frank said, now in awe. The Professor was wearing a set of blue tartan robes and marched smartly down the length of the Gryffindor table, distributing time tables and sharing short words with some of the upper years. She had a severe bun and a face that was just as tight; shrewd, bright eyes that lighted upon and made note of certain faces. Even when she gave a small curve of the lips to Marlene, who seemed intent, once again, to start a conversation, it was nowhere near a true smile and Sirius was glad of it: anything more would have looked out of place in such a face. “She can turn into a cat, did you know?”

“She can what?” Peter asked in alarm (he’d been listening in). “She can turn into a cat?!”

“Shhh.” Remus hushed him, glancing anxiously at the Professor still a little way away from them. “She’s an _animagus_. She can take the form of a specific animal at will.”

“That’s the textbook definition.” James agreed, shooting Remus a slightly perplexed look. “And don’t worry, Peter. Not all witches and wizards can turn into animals. It’s a long, dangerous process. You need to be a whiz at transfiguration.”

“She’s a genius.” Frank said. “Or at least, that’s what my mum says. And she doesn’t say that very often, let me tell you that.”

Professor McGonagall gave the first time table to Remus. “Mr Lupin, here your fortnightly time table. Please read through all the rooms and times carefully and remember that punctuality is crucial, especially on your first day.” She flipped the sheet of parchment over. “And here on the adjacent side is our map of the school.”

“Merlin’s beard.” Sirius said, shocked. “That’s all the school?”

“It’s a pleasure to welcome you to our house, Mr Black.” Professor McGonagall said smoothly, but her eyes caught his and he could tell he was one of the students she was taking note of. “And yes, although if you pressed me to be honest, I’d admit the map itself probably won’t be much help to you. I would suggest instead asking a portrait or an upper year student for help if you get lost.”

“Which we definitely will by the looks of that.” Frank gulped and then turned bright red when he realised he’d spoken aloud.

“Mr Longbottom, I presume.” Professor McGonagall said, but her tone wasn’t harsh. “How is your mother?”

“Very well thank you, ma’am… er miss?”

“Professor.”

“Right, yes of course. Professor.” Frank took his time table and didn’t speak anymore.

“Tell you what we need,” Sirius said to himself. “We need a better map.”

“Professor McGonagall.” James intercepted cheerfully and was satisfied with the way her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I’m James Potter; my parents have told me all about you.”

“Potter, was it? Well what did they say?”

“My dad said you were the reason he got an O in his Transfiguration Newts. My mum said you were the reason she never had any fun.”

“Fleamont and Euphemia. Yes, I’d say that sounds about correct.” Although the Professor’s face was still stiff, her tone was tinted with affection. “I do hope you take after your father, Mr Potter. He was an excellent prefect and a highly talented transfigurer.”

“Prefect?” Sirius mouthed raising an eyebrow so sceptically James had to hold in a snort.

“Oh no, Professor. It’s my mother who told me the most about her days at Hogwarts. All that gallivanting, the not-so-forbidden forest… I’m looking forward to an education just like hers.”

“In which case Godric help us all.” With a swish of her cloak, the Professor strode off to continue delivering timetables.

“I do like _her_.” Sirius said, perfectly buttering a slice of toast so the knife swam across it like a paintbrush. “Tell me we’ve got Transfiguration today.”

“First thing tomorrow.” Frank said although he didn’t sound disappointed. “I made myself look like a right idiot, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.” Peter said instinctively and then beamed with pleasure when the others laughed.

“Scoff down your toast, Sirius.” James ordered. “We’ve got Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first and that’s all the way in the green houses.”

“Did you know Hogwarts is the only institution in the world licensed to grow devil’s snare?” Remus asked before he could help himself.

“Really?” Sirius said. “Why?”

“It wraps around your limbs and chokes the life out of you like a boa constrictor.”

“Then why on earth are they licensed to grow it in a school?” Frank exclaimed.

“I guess so we can learn to watch out for it, and hopefully not have the life choked out of us.” Remus said, and then for the sake of politeness realised he should at least introduce himself. “I’m Remus Lupin, by the way. We share a dorm.”

“James Potter.” James leant over Sirius to grasp his hand. “That’s Sirius Black and Frank Longbottom.”

“What are you reading?” Sirius asked, squinting at the book in Remus’ lap. Immediately, he was wrestling it up to display the front cover, the tome so huge that his face was completely obscured behind it.

“Hogwarts: A History. You should give it a go.” He seemed to pick up on their sceptical glances and flicked nervously to the last page. “It’s only er… 30,940 pages, which may seem like a lot but it’s really not when you get into it.”

“Right…” James said slowly and grinned as Sirius stuck his tongue out behind his back. His wrinkled nose screamed ‘know-it-all!’ “Well don’t let us keep you from it. School and history, what a thrilling combo.”

“Right.” Remus echoed and felt his cheeks burn as he tucked the book away in his bag.

“Which way to the greenhouses?” Sirius lifted the map and twisted it around a few times to try and make sense of it. “I don’t think they’ve even labelled the grounds, this thing’s useless. Or the kitchens, for that matter… You sensing a challenge, Jamesie?”

“I’m sensing we’ve got a bit of exploring to do. But for now…” James folded his map, tucked it away and closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to envision the castle’s layout in his mind. “Let’s hunt down the greenhouses. Forget about the map, I know this school like the back of my hand.”

“You’d better.” Sirius warned. “This is our first day at Hogwarts, the debut of our wizarding careers. What kind of omen is it if we’re late to our very first lesson?”

“A pretty accurate one, if you ask me. Don’t expect me to be on time for anything ever again with the moving staircases to contend with. Not to mention _Peeves_.”

“Who’s Peeves?” Peter inquired innocently.

“On your first day….” James trailed off and shivered like he was having war flashbacks. “Pray you won’t need to know. Now come on men, hop to it. Last one there gets fed to the Devil’s Snare!”

***

The boys were late, actually, but the Professor ushered them in with a few tuts and no one was fed to any Devil’s Snare. In fact there didn’t seem to be even a sprout of it in the whole greenhouse, which was a relief to Peter who had been last and wasn’t 100% confident he wouldn’t actually be eaten and a vast disappointment to James, who had been hoping to steal a clipping and rear some in the bathroom.

Pomona Sprout was a short, plump witch with a bright, ruddy face and perpetually muddied robes. She seemed very enthusiastic about plants, crooning to them throughout the lesson and unable to gather any sympathy for those less enraptured.

“Longbottom, calm down, it’s only a Venus flytrap! It’s a muggle plant! Look at Miss Fortescue, hers is wrapping itself around her finger. 5 points to Gryffindor Miss Fortescue!”

“Hi.” The Miss Fortescue in question said, a round-faced girl with big brown eyes and a very muddy apron. “I’m Alice. Would you like some help?”

“More than anything.” Frank replied, eyeing the jaws of his plant with trepidation.

“Mr Potter! Mr Black!” Professor Sprout’s voice rang out from across the greenhouse. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get it to digest my finger, Professor!” Sirius said enthusiastically. Sure enough, he had placed his pinkie into the flytrap’s mouth and James was egging it on eagerly.

“Go on, Fluffy the flytrap! Maybe when you pull it out it’ll just be bone!”

“Don’t eat his finger, don’t do it!” Peter said in distress, even as Remus tried to reassure him it couldn’t.

A few seconds later Sirius pulled such a great act of yelling in pain and trying to wrench himself free that even Professor Sprout, who sensibly knew he would not be digested, had to rush over to see what was happening. When she discovered he’d ben faking, Gryffindor lost the five points they’d earnt and Sirius gave a wide beam.

“That’s got to be a record. Five points in the first lesson.”

“I’m walking with Alice!” Frank called to them at the end of the period and disappeared at her side amongst the rabble of students.

“I can’t say I’ll miss him too much.” James confessed. “He was looking at that plant as if at any moment someone would whisper ‘engorgio’ and it would swallow him whole.”

“Would’ve been doing us a favour.” Sirius snickered and returned with James up to the castle.

***

“It’s a very simple movement.” Professor Flitwick said in Charms the next lesson. “A swish and flick. Repeat after me now children! Swish and flick!”

“Swish and flick.” The first-years chorused, mimicking the appropriate movement.

“Excellent, excellent work! And the incantation is Wingardium Leviosa, not Levius as that would lift yourself into the air rather than your feather and I’d have to call Mr Filch and his broom to poke you down. Say it with me now!”

“Wingardium Leviosa.”

“Well done, well done. So give it a try, boys and girls, and don’t be disheartened if you don’t get it first try. Charms is a tricky dragon to wrangle and- oh. Mr Black, you’ve done it!”

Sure enough, Sirius’ feather was levitating perfectly steady in the air and he could even guide it by moving his wand. He didn’t look exactly smug but he was pleased with himself.

“I didn’t know we were starting! Wingardium Leviosa!” Marlene attempted and soon enough everybody else was trying it too.

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

“Wing- wingardium…”

“Levi… levie… Leviosa!”

“Wingardium Leviosa.” Remus gave a neat swish and flick and his feather rose falteringly into the air, eventually evening out to a steady suspension. “Look at that, Pete! I’ve done it!”

“What’s the charm again?” Peter was asking everyone around him. “Wingard Levium?”

“Wingardium Leviosa.” James said with a lazy flick and swish and his feather shot into the air like a firework. “Woah! Come back down!”

“Shoot it at that Ravenclaw boy, the one who keeps lifting other people’s feathers.” Sirius suggested devilishly.

“Brill idea. Wingardium Leviosa!”

“Ouch!”

“Mr Potter, you could have taken Mr Patil’s eye out! 3 points from Gryffindor.” Professor Flitwick huffed and went to attend to the Ravenclaw boy who was now welling up and rubbing his hand.

“That was dangerous.” Lily complained, turning to face them from the row in front.

“And stop losing us points.” Dorcas added, looking highly miffed and pointing her feather at them accusingly. “That’s eight now and it’s only second period.”

“I know.” James boasted, ruffling his hair at Lily. “Must be a new school best, right?” She groaned and went back to attempting the spell.

Peter gave a loud “Ah ha!” of triumph and raised his wand. “Wingardium Levius!” His cry of victory transformed into a squeak of terror as he rose like a balloon, bobbing up to the ceiling and nearly colliding with the chandelier.

“Peter!” Remus cried in alarm, even as the rest of the class erupted into laughter and Professor Flitwick wearily shook his head.

“It’s a miracle we don’t have one every lesson. Mr Lupin, please go and find Mr Filch. Tell him to bring the broom.”

***

“Potion making is not something all of you will take to,” Professor Slughorn began and a ripple of concerned whispers spread across the dungeon like a hive of bees. “No, no, not that that’s anything to be ashamed of! Although I must say, there is no magical skill more refined than potion-making. It demands precision and artistry that most simply cannot achieve. It’s a rare thing to find a true rising star.” Here he chuckled. “Still, who knows? Perhaps I’ll find a future connoisseur in one of you!” His eyes scanned the room greedily for a moment before he seemed to recall what he was doing. “Right. In any case, I have placed your instructions and ingredients up on the board. I’m afraid there is a seating plan,” Here the class dissolved into groans and he had to hush them several times before they fell silent. “You may not think it’s ideal but sometimes the person you’ll do your best brewing with is not your best friend.”

“Tough luck mate.” Sirius whispered to Remus. “You’re next to Severus Snape.”

“Who?” Remus asked, puzzled.

“You’ll see.”

James was partnered with an anxious Slytherin girl who spilt her quills and had to scrabble on the floor to collect them all back up. Sirius was pleased to discover he was next to Marlene McKinnon and they shared a significant look as they unpacked their equipment. Lily joined a cheerful, messy looking girl who introduced herself as Mary Macdonald and wrote her notes in chicken-scratch script. Peter was mightily relieved to find he was paired with Frank who contrastingly surveyed his small, clumsy hands with apprehension. Remus stood next to a sallow, lank haired boy and tried not to look uncomfortable.

“Hello. I’m Remus Lupin. I suppose we’re partners then.” The sallow boy glanced at his Gryffindor robes and his lip curled.

“Severus Snape. And don’t bother calling us _partners_.” He didn’t even look at him as he spoke, instead already setting his cauldron on the heat and withdrawing a rusty ladle from his bag. “You do your potion and try not to ruin mine. Let’s just stay out of each other’s way.”

“Alright then.” Remus said, somewhat irked by this cold reception. “There’s no need to be sore about it.” They began their work in silence.

“I wish we could have started with something a little more interesting than a hiccoughing potion.” Lily said dubiously. “I mean there’s a whole page in the textbook on befuddling draughts and those look fascinating.”

“I think it’s cute.” Mary responded, adding haphazard pinches of this and that into her cauldron. “Hiccup! Do you think we’ll be allowed to try them at the end?”

Lily peered into her partner’s cauldron. The potion was supposed to be a vibrant orange but was instead a pewter grey. “Best not.” She said eventually. “I mean, none of us have even got hiccups anyway, right?”

Marlene and Sirius hadn’t even started their potions, but were rather having a riveting discussion about the types of people you met at pureblood mixers. “There’s always a boy with so much sleak-easy in, he looks like he’s wearing a hard hat.” Marlene said which made Sirius burst into uproarious laughter. “You know the one? And some girl searching for a husband with a face like this.” She pulled an exaggerated sultry expression.

“Mr Black, Miss McKinnon how is your work coming along?” Professor Slughorn asked, rearing into view.

“Oh excellently.” Sirius said, chucking a few ingredients into the cauldron and drawing back to avoid a puff of smoke. “Look at that! It’s a perfect shade of magenta.”

“It’s supposed to be orange.”

“Orangey magenta. I mean, colour’s all a spectrum anyway.”

“Yes I suppose that’s not too far off.” Professor Slughorn said charitably. “But I must ask Miss McKinnon, how’s your cousin Petronella Bones? I taught her potions all the way up to NEWTs and it just fills me with pride to see what a success she’s made of herself.”

“Yes, she’s always been a high-flyer.” Marlene said breezily, even as she dug her scalpel a little too fiercely into her ginger.

“Quite, quite. Although, she hasn’t responded to any of my letters recently… would you mind, perhaps, oh I don’t know, checking up on her for me? Reminding her of her genial old potions master and the nice chats we used to have? I always knew she’d go into politics; she had that sort of countenance.” He gave a brutally faux nostalgic chuckle. “She could outmanoeuvre anyone if she put her mind to it, even myself on a good day.”

“Right.” Marlene said. “Will do. I’m sure she’ll be so pleased to hear you want to get back in touch.” Her voice was so sickly sweet Sirius wondered that it wasn’t rotting her teeth. Slughorn didn’t seem to notice.

“And of course, I can’t pass without pointing out how disappointing it is not to see you in green and silver, Mr Black. After so many generations, I’d thought it was a given that when I heard the name Black that there’d be a new addition to my house.” He chortled and when Sirius didn’t say anything, ploughed on. “Still, don’t let it strike a wedge between us. Your cousins were all credits to the school, not just Slytherin. I’m sure we’ll get along very well. Maybe in a few years you’ll even get an invite to the Slug club.” He gave an exaggerated wink.

Sirius suddenly empathised a great deal with Marlene as his own lips curled into a conditioned grimace. It took a moment to remind himself that here in Hogwarts he could say what he wanted. “Actually I hope I don’t.” He replied. “Not if any of my cousins did. I’d hate to spend too much time with anyone who had a hand in turning them into the wonderful young witches they are today, lest the affect wear off on me.” He looked Professor Slughorn dead in the eyes, extricated the ginger from beneath Marlene’s blade and dumped the whole lot into his potion. It gave off a few pathetic bubbles and turned a stodgy grey. “Plus I don’t think I’ve much of a talent for potions, Professor. Perhaps such a prodigious place would be more beneficial to somebody from a less Noble and Moste Anciente House.”

Slughorn gaped at him for a second before clearing his throat uneasily. “Well, if that’s your opinion, let’s not quibble over it. Carry on the good work, Miss McKinnon, Mr Black.” He waddled swiftly away, not even bothering to stop at James’ table. The Slytherin girl’s hands were shaking as she sloshed rose water into her cauldron and James had given up entirely, and was attempting some sort of troll origami with his equipment list.

When he caught Sirius’ eye, he lifted it up for him to see. What Sirius thought was meant to be a nose was inverted, the legs were akimbo and the club looked more like a drumstick.

“Looks great!” He mouthed. James shot him a thumbs up, looked shiftily from side to side and tossed it like a Frisbee so it landed on Sirius’ desk.

Noticing Sirius’ quizzical expression, James mouthed “Flip it.” On the back it was labelled ‘GARRETT GOYLE: AN ARTIST’S IMPRESSION’. Noticing Slughorn was nearing Snape’s desk, Sirius unrolled his own sheet of parchment and reached for his quill. Sure, it was a decent caricature, but he could do better.

Professor Slughorn took one look at Remus and Severus’ work space and let out a series of tuts. “Boys, boys! What is this equipment? This cauldron is so worn the right potion would burn right through it.” They both felt themselves flush as they surveyed their supplies. Remus was using his parents’ old stuff: there had been no money to buy more. Severus was using what his mother, with her limited funds, could afford: his father had flat-out refused to spend a penny on his education. What they did have was worn, rusty and ancient.

“Sorry Professor,” Remus began. “We’re working with that we’ve got.”

“We’re making our infantile hiccoughing potions, aren’t we?” Severus snapped. “And take a look, if you want, because there’s nothing wrong with what I’m brewing.”

“Would you rather be doing something more challenging, Mr…?”

“Snape.”

“Mr Snape. Because if not, I’d keep your opinions on the syllabus to yourself.” Professor Slughorn smiled patronisingly and moved as if to leave.

“Actually, I would because I could do this sort of work in my sleep.” To illustrate his point, Severus tilted his cauldron so the Professor could see the perfect orange potion inside. “Perhaps this might be the sort of thing you’d find challenging, Professor, but this to me is elementary.”

Professor Slughorn had gone ruddy with anger and his voice rose in volume so soon the whole class was listening in. “I won’t stand for this sort of insolence in my classroom, not whilst I am the teacher and you are the student. That will be 10 points each from your house Mr Snape and Mr…”

“But sir, I didn’t do anything!” Remus protested.

“Your name, boy.” Professor Slughorn said again.

“Remus Lupin, sir.”

The Professor froze and all the blood drained from his red face to leave it quivering and white. “Remus… Lupin did you say? The only Remus Lupin in your year, are you?”

“Yes sir.” Remus said, puzzled for a moment before the implication of it all sank in. “Oh.” He whispered to himself, feeling his heartbeat race. The Professor clearly knew, but he wouldn’t dare say anything, would he? The whole class was looking now as the pause stretched out too long to be comfortable. Severus’ eyes in particular were darting analytically from Slughorn to Remus and his face looked dangerously intrigued.

“Right, everybody back to their work.” Slughorn said eventually, his voice slightly choked and trembling. “No need to worry about taking points off. Mr Snape, your potion is exemplary but I don’t want any more lip from you or else your grades will suffer. And Mr Lupin…” He scanned his face for a moment before gulping and turning away. “Your consistency is off. A pinch more Seahorse spine will do it. That’s all.”

“What was that?” Severus asked eagerly. “Why did he keep looking at you like that? What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing.” Remus said weakly. His blood still felt like ice in his veins and there were whispers coming from behind him that itched in his ears, whispers of his own name. Typical when all he wanted to do was keep a low profile.

“That wasn’t nothing.” Severus insisted. “Slughorn looked like he’d seen a ghost. Do you two know each other?”

“Clearly _he_ knows _me_.” Remus said impatiently. “I couldn’t tell you any more about it.”

“How does he know you?” Severus pressed. “You’re not a muggleborn, are you? I can tell; you don’t have that dewy look in your eyes. So what is it then? A family feud?”

“I can’t say so shut up.” Remus snapped.

Severus fell quiet but he felt triumphant all the same. That was interesting, very interesting. He’d have to talk to Lily about it at lunch.

“Nicely done, Miss Evans.” Slughorn was saying across the classroom and Lily felt warm inside. Potions had been undoubtedly her favourite lesson thus far. It was the first one she’d felt truly comfortable in; there was no tricksy wand waving or untameable Latin words, it was just like baking a cake.

“I think you’ve got a real talent there, Miss Evans.”

“Thank you, Professor.” She flushed, corking a sample of sunset-orange potion. Something told her this could be the first lesson in which she received full marks.

Now there was someone he could work with, Slughorn thought, internally relieved. Highly proficient at potions and had practically shone at a word of praise. Unlike Severus Snape, Sirius Black or, heaven forbid, the deceptively plain Remus Lupin. Evans… he didn’t know any wizarding Evans but it was a fairly common name… he’d look into it after the lesson.

“Cooee,” Sirius called to Remus at the end of the period whilst everyone else was rushing to lunch. “What was all that about?”

He paused for a moment in packing up his books before shaking his head. “Would you believe me if I said I don’t know? And it’s none of your business either way.”

“Well it’s certainly none of our business,” James said, strolling over and hopping onto the table where Remus was still clasping his ink pot. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t tell us anyway. You know we wouldn’t say anything.”

“No.” Remus said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “No I really don’t.”

“Oh, go on Lupin.” Sirius begged, forcing himself between him and the door. “Just give us a hint?”

“A hint?” He scoffed. “Bog off. There’s your hint. Now take it and get out of my way.” He strode past him and disappeared into the corridor. Peter didn’t even attempt to follow him, instead turning to look at Sirius and James.

“That’s weird, right? I mean, I’m not magical but he’s not acting normal?”

“He was quiet as a bowtruckle all morning,” Sirius mused. “Now he’s a Hungarian Horntail, biting off heads left and right.”

“Weird.” James said and then shrugged. “Oh well. What are we standing in this damp, dark dungeon for? Let’s go get some lunch. Food stimulates the brain.”

“Look, after you showed me your troll Goyle, I drew a doodle of Snape.”

“Ha! He looks like a toucan.”

“Doesn’t he just? I’ll pay you a galleon to draw Lupin as a dragon.”

“You’re on.”

***

“And then came the 1368 Vampire revolt of Chelmsford when the Vampires… revolted. Naturally this caused some issues for the local peasants who didn’t appreciate being regularly bitten or becoming part of an army of undead. In May that year they then attempted to march on London except someone had forgotten to watch out for sunrise and their entire army was burnt to a crisp by daybreak. This had the repercussions of the Vampire Regulation Act of 1456, when the Wizarding chiefs gathered together to create a comprehensive set of… regulations to ensure the comprehensive… regulation of Vampire kind. Now, you may be wondering-”

James had never been so royally bored in his entire life. If this was every History of Magic lesson from here on out, he was going to revolt himself by the end of the year. Some people were still valiantly attempting to make notes but most had succumbed to their fate and were sprawled across their desks, attempting to nap or else doodling on their parchment.

Sirius had drawn him another caricature of Professor Binns nearer the start of the lesson, his translucent, ghostly state depicted through a rather skilful use of shade and tone. His eyes were sagging in their sockets and from his mouth streamed a string of ‘Blah, blah, blah’s. He’d given a spectacular snort and then tried to cover it up with a cough. No one had been fooled but Professor Binns himself hadn’t even raised an eyebrow. They must have covered 300 years of history in this one lesson but all of it had gone in one of James’ ears and right out the other.

Maybe he’d flick through the textbook later. Yeah, sure, he decided. That’s what he’d do. Right before he went to bed, he’d just have a quick little glance over the textbook. Settling even deeper into his seat, he closed his eyes and began to doze with that fail-safe ringing in his head.

In reality, James did not flick through the textbook. He never flicked through the textbook.

***

Their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher arrived 10 minutes late and immediately tripped over his own feet. They’d just been discussing how long the Professor had to be absent before they could all leave (15 minutes had been thrown around but others said 30) and watched in shock as he wrestled his way back up off the ground.

“Wooh!” He hooted, scrambling onto two feet and holding his papers aloft. “Wow you guys are small! First-years, right?” There was a general murmur or assent. “Ok, ok, wow. So sorry I’m late it’s been…” He gave a few short barks of hysterical laughter. “It’s been a crazy day for me, ya know? But we’re both in the same boat, we’re all new here today. Let’s just try and get along, ok?”

He looked young, James noticed, and verifiably crazy. His hair stood straight up on his head as if someone had hit him with an electrical hex and was a sandy sort of blonde that reminded him of chaff. He had the beginnings of patchy stubble around his cheeks and chin and his eyes were bloodshot and underlined with shadows. His robes looked manic, as if several different cloths had been sewed together to form a franken-robe. James could see polka-dots, a silk lining, stripes, zig-zags and even bells somewhere beneath it all because with every movement he let off a sort of jingle.

“He’s print mixing so much he looks like an optical illusion.” Sirius said, sounding utterly appalled.

“I’m Professor Griffin,” The young man introduced himself, clambering up to sit on his desk. “And I am your new and improved DADA teacher! Do the kids still call it DADA? I went to Hogwarts myself you know, and we always called it DADA.” When he received no response he simply clapped his hands and gave them all a wide grin. “Alrighty then, not DADA. It doesn’t matter. Basically, in your first year, they don’t want us to scare you quite yet so the syllabus is boring AS. HELL. So for the first couple of weeks I’ve got some sheets,” He gathered up the papers into his arms and scrabbled through them. “And if we get these done quick enough, maybe we can look at some stuff that’s actually fun, ok?”

There was a pause of muted silence. “Ok.” James said in the end and this seemed to increase their Professor’s enthusiasm tenfold.

“Yes! Thank you…”

“Potter.”

“No, no, no I can’t stand calling my students their second names. It makes you all sound like little automatons. What’s your first name, Potter?”

“I’m James, sir. What’s _your_ first name, Professor Griffin?”

Sirius stuffed his fist into his mouth to stop himself from laughing but the Professor had no such inhibitions. He exploded into roars of laughter to the extent that students began to chuckle too simply because he was so infectious.

“You know what, I like you James. I like you. And my first name is Gargoyle, thank you for asking. But my friends call me Garg for short.”

“Your parents named you _Gargoyle Griffin_?” Sirius said in disgust. “And I thought Sirius was dumb and pretentious.”

“Gargoyle is dumb and pretentious, Sirius, which is why my friends call me Garg for short. So you can all call me Garg.”

A few people murmured uncomfortably at this but James and Sirius thought it was fantastic.

“Thanks Garg.”

“Yeah, you’re cool Garg.”

“You guys are cool!” He shot them finger guns, forgetting he was still holding onto their boring sheets. They splayed everywhere. “Oh doxy droppings, give me a moment.” He gathered them up off of the floor and resurfaced with a breath of relief. “Ok, sheets for everyone. Who wants sheets?”

He handed them out and they set to work. At one point Garg started writing something on the board and they all perked up to try and figure out if it was important. In the end they realised he was just playing hangman against himself. Remus guessed the answer was ‘wyvern tongue’ so Garg gave him 20 house points and a hard boiled sweet from the depths of his eclectic robes. Remus didn’t eat it; he didn’t trust it enough to let it anywhere near his mouth.

Once James and Sirius had finished their sheets, the questions had all been stuff like ‘what is a jinx’ and ‘why is duelling bad’, Garg taught them how to transform them into paper aeroplanes and the remainder of the lesson then just became a case of who could construct the most aero-dynamic aircraft. They launched them out of the window and whichever one landed the closest to the forbidden forest was the supreme, mean, flying parchment machine. James won and then only boasted about it for the next 15 minutes.

“That was the best hour of my life.” Sirius declared truthfully once they reached the end of the day and Garg had disappeared in a whirl of his technicolour robes. A few of the first-years lingered behind after the lesson, packing away their stuff and reluctant to enter the chaos of the corridors without each other. “I have never had so much fun learning ever and I’ve had a tutor since the age of four.”

“Garg is epic.” James said. “I’ll admit I thought he could have been on something when he first arrived but now I can’t wait until our next lesson. He was talking about bringing in wizarding chess sets and holding a tournament.”

“Chess?” Lily said sceptically, appearing at his shoulder. “Why are you so excited about chess?”

“My sweet, muggleborn child,” Sirius sighed. “This is wizarding chess. The pieces move. The pieces _destroy each other_.”

“Ooo. Now I’m excited for chess too.”

“We didn’t actually learn much.” Remus said. He was hovering by Peter’s shoulder, testily watching as he attempted to balance his paper aeroplanes in his bag, insisting they were souvenirs of his first day and he didn’t want to crush them.

“Pish posh.” Marlene scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “Everybody knows first year Defence Against the Dark Arts is a sham. My sister Honerva did nothing but pummel punching bags in her first year.” She frowned. “Although they did have an odd one 1962… some sort of retired niffler wrangler…”

“I’d love to be a niffler wrangler.” Dorcas said dreamily. “Could you imagine how many you’d get to pet?”

“How about some dinner chaps?” Peter said, obtuse to the fact that they’d all been waiting on him. “I’m starving. Let’s all go and get something to eat.”

“Sure. I’m famished.” James said, stomach emitting a loud grumble. He had been so engaged all day he’d barely felt his hunger but now he could eat a whole erumpent. However, just as they made to leave, a quiet voice came from the doorway.

“Lily.” Severus Snape said, his voice soft on her name but eyes glaring accusingly at the other Gryffindors. “I came to find you.”


	3. High Noon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus and the Marauders have their first confrontation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sooo sorry this took so long I was really stuck on it :/ But anyway, it's done. Subpar, but done.

“Sev!” Lily exclaimed.

At the same time James gave Sirius a knowing nudge. “Sev!” He mimicked and beamed as the Slytherin’s face darkened exponentially. “It’s been too long.”

“Not long enough.” He growled in reply and then looked at Lily despairingly. “I didn’t see you at lunch.”

“I didn’t see _you_ at lunch.” She insisted, drawing closer. “I looked for you all through the hall but you weren’t there.”

“We can’t sit together in the hall, we’re in different houses. I was out by the lake.”

“Well how was I supposed to know that?”

“ _You’re_ Severus Snape? Lily’s Slytherin friend?” Marlene interrupted. Her eyes assessed him, roaming down from his greasy hair to his frayed robes and she gave a spontaneous titter. “Sorry, hon, but you don’t look much like I expected.”

“And how’s that?” He said, suddenly so venomous that Marlene pawed instinctively at Dorcas’ hand. “Expecting another wholesome, brainless lackey?” His lip curled. “Not everyone in this year is utterly without sense.”

“Nope, just you.” James said cheerfully, utterly unbothered by Severus’ allusions. “Because you chose to be in Slytherin of all houses. Then again, I hear they don’t have showers installed down in the dungeons. Remind you of home?”

Severus came over with a muted flush that ruddied his sallow cheeks and set a vein pulsing in his temple. Lily clutched clumsily at his arm in an attempt to keep him at bay.

“James, don’t be a berk.” She exclaimed, slightly scandalised and shocked at the turn the conversation had taken. “And Sev you need to calm down.”

“Maybe an aversion to soap is all it takes to get you into Slytherin.” Sirius continued, delighted at the effect their taunts were having. “The Sorting Hat gets one whiff of your greasy head and shrieks Slytherin to save itself.”

“In which case, what would it take to get into Gryffindor?” Severus snarled. “Does the Sorting Hat have to get in your head and find there’s nothing there?”

“Oi!” Marlene said as Dorcas gave an offended whine. “Honestly, you boys. Come on, Cassie.” She shot a nervous look at Severus: the way he clutched at his robes, the spittle against his red chin, he looked like a caged animal about to go on a rampage. They didn’t want to be there when he did. Still, she had to admit, the way James and Sirius were staying so collected in the face of this deranged Slytherin boy did make them look sort of… cool.

“We’re going. Bye, Lils, sweetie.”

“Thanks, Marlene.” Lily said through gritted teeth, catching the tone of an afterthought in her farewell.

“Peter, we should go too.” Remus whispered to the other boy. “We don’t want to get into trouble.”

“Shut up, Remus.” Peter hushed him, gazing at James with a look of hungry awe. “Can’t you see James and Sirius are winning?”

“This isn’t a game.” Remus said shortly, but he crossed his arms and held his ground.

“Lily, just come with me.” Severus was saying, taking a tighter grip on Lily’s arm as if about to steer her from the room. “We’re wasting time on these blood-traitors.”

Sirius gave a crow of delight and James folded over with laughter. “Really, Snape? Look at yourself! _Evans_ is a muggleborn.”

“Why does this have anything to do with me being a muggleborn?” Lily said, frustrated. “It’s all I’ve heard all day! Muggle this, muggle that… Why is it such a big deal that my family’s muggle?”

“It’s not! Not to us.” Sirius insisted. “But it is to Slytherin. You know they don’t even take muggleborns, right?”

“Yes we do.” Severus said quickly.

“No, they don’t.” James said. “It’s a whole part of their twisted conditions. Gryffindor takes the brave of heart but Slytherin takes the pure of blood. The only other thing you need is a stench strong enough to kill a Cornish pixie and a broomstick so far up your-”

“That’s enough!” Lily exploded and the force of her voice brought them all to an abrupt silence. To James’ horror, he noticed her eyes were glistening with angry tears. “I hope you’re happy with yourselves. All you care about are your stupid egos and your stupid houses.” She wrenched her sleeve across her eyes and wheeled from the room, ignoring Severus’ desperate pleas to wait. The door slammed behind her with a foreboding thud.

He was on them in seconds. “You!” Severus shrieked, clawed hands fumbling with his wand. “Look what you did!” Peter gave an almighty squeak and Remus resisted the urge to mutter an ‘I told you so’ under his breath.

“What _we_ did?” James said indignantly as Sirius drew his own wand with a wolfish grin. “You’re the one who called us blood-traitors. If you care about purism, what are you doing all moony-eyed after a muggleborn?”

“She’s more than a muggleborn.” Severus snarled, thrusting his wand closer so it was perfectly in line with James’ nose.

“Aren’t they all once you develop a creepy little crush on them?” Sirius taunted, drawing defensively to James’ side so Severus’ wand wavered skittishly between them. “Put down the wand, Snape. Or I’ll hex you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Severus said but his hands were shaking now. Beads of sweat blossomed on his taut forehead. His eyes bulged in their sockets, swivelling desperately like a caged animal’s. “You Gryffindors are all bark and no bite.”

“Why not both?” Sirius bared his teeth and let loose a long, mocking growl. Severus’ wand-arm dropped and he tripped back a few steps, hand groping for the door handle. His eyes caught on Peter and Remus watching immobilised.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Lupin.” He lashed out with his last dreg of nerve. “I’ll get to the bottom of you. All of you. You’ll be sorry!” He whirled on his heel and dashed out of the room, slamming the door behind him with enough force that the walls shook and dust sprinkled down from the ceiling.

For a moment, the four remaining boys were suspended in a stunned silence. Eventually James let out a long whistle. “What a drama queen.”

Sirius sneezed and flicked a little dust off his shoulder. “Ugh, they should really do something about that plaster. It’s not in my hair is it?”

“Excuse me!” Peter said, having gone quite pale. “He just swore us mortal enemies!”

“Well, I think his exact words were: you’ll be sorry.” Remus corrected feebly. “And then he slammed the door extremely hard. But yes, to all intents and purposes, he did just swear us mortal enemies.”

“Cor, he was angry.” James murmured to himself, as if this were just sinking in. “Do you think Lily- I mean Evans’ll be ok?”

“She’ll be fine; he’s drooling all over her.” Sirius said. “I’m more concerned about us. I could tell he was stark raving mad right from the start: he reminds me of my cousin Bellatrix.”

“And she’s crazy?”

“She once put gorgon blood in my goblet because I read her tea-leaves and said she’d marry a toad.”

“That stuffs fancy.” James said, sounding impressed.

“Yeah. And deadly poisonous.”

“Snape’s gonna put poison in our pumpkin juice!” Peter despaired. They all ignored him.

“Do you know how close you came to duelling?” Remus frowned reprovingly at James and Sirius. “You could have got expelled. You could still get in major trouble if Snape told someone.”

“So?” James said, unperturbed. “He’s not going to do that. We embarrassed him so much he probably won’t even write it in his diary.”

“Besides, don’t you act all high and mighty. Snape is onto you as well.” Sirius reminded him. “If you’d just told him what that was with Slughorn, hell told all of us, there wouldn’t be a problem. Now he’s not going to stop until he finds out.”

“I couldn’t tell him. I can’t!” Remus blurted out. “I mean, because I don’t know.” He then added hurriedly. “And I don’t want any more to do with this. Peter, let’s just go.”

“But-” Peter began, shimmying indecisively. However, when Remus began to stride away he scurried to keep up, glancing fretfully at James and Sirius over his shoulder.

***

“Why is no one in our year normal?” James whispered later that night when it was only him and Sirius awake. Neither had been able to sleep so they were lying on their sides facing each other, moonlight illuminating only slashes of their faces.

“Haven’t the foggiest.” Sirius said but he didn’t look very disappointed. “Say, it was funny to see Snape crack though.”

“Yeah.” James said, flashing him a toothy grin that gleamed bright white amongst the shadows. “And then shake like a leaf the second you gave him a dose of his own medicine. Thanks for that, by the way. You didn’t have to stand up for me like that.”

“Of course I did. And I would have hexed him if I had to.” He paused, considering something before adding: “Besides, we’re friends. I wasn’t going to let him get away with jabbing a wand in your face.”

“Right.” James agreed, smile widening. Sirius had said some cracking things today but that was by far the best.

“Right.” Sirius repeated, feeling something warm and relieved blossom in his chest.

“You realise tomorrow we’ve got to explore the castle, right? I’ve heard all sorts of things from my mum. Hidden passageways, trapdoors, a secret way into the kitchens…”

“Good plan. We can bunk off from History of Magic and flick through the textbook later. That lesson’s a lost cause anyway having to listen to Professor Binns drone on and on and on…” Sirius pretended to snore and James had to smother his giggles into his pillow.

“Shhh, you’ll wake up Lupin.”

“You’re right, I’ll keep it down. We wouldn’t want another lecture from Professor Lupin.”

“I know he’s weird but I feel kind of sorry for him, you know what I mean? Maybe he really doesn’t know why Professor Slughorn was acting like he’d sprouted a tail.”

“James, I am a connoisseur in the art of subterfuge. Lupin is not. He was obviously lying.”

James shrugged into his duvet. “Maybe. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Let’s just try and stay out of his way before we give him a nervous breakdown.”

Sirius snickered. “I can see it in the papers now: Nefarious Heir to Black Fortune and Confounded Innocent Torture Hapless First-year Into Insanity.”

“An article by Rita Skeeter.”

They both dissolved into laughter again and had to take great gasping breaths to calm down. Eventually Sirius heard James’ breathing even out into a gentle snore and was enfolded by darkness and silence. He didn’t feel afraid or even sleepy, despite the fact that it had to be well into the night. He felt as if this place could become home, that he could grow used to the melodic hoots of the owls every morning, the raucous roar of the corridors, the gentles snores of the boys around him. He had never slept in the same room as someone else before and already his chest constricted at the idea of having to lie once more in his cold, solitary room back at number 12, Grimmauld Place.

Don’t even think about it, he scolded himself. Hogwarts was too lively for such grim thoughts. Tomorrow and every day after promised to be just as exciting as the one that had just been and the summer holidays were miles into the future, an ominous, foggy future to be swept under the carpet. It was intangible, and couldn’t touch him here or now. Sod the Noble and Moste Anciente House of Black. Sirius wasn’t anything to them. The only thing he was that mattered was James Potter’s friends.

That night he dreamt of a pride of lions, but he ran amongst them, roaring into a clear blue sky. Nothing snapped at his heels but the whip of dry grass and a rush of air. He was utterly unanchored, utterly fearless. When he woke up the next morning, he found he hadn’t dreamt the feeling.


	4. Repercussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius receives a... strongly-worded letter from home and a harmless prank backfires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lil warning that Sirius' mother says some not very nice things in this chapter in regard to Andromeda being pregnant and her husband being a muggle and of course about Gryffindor in general. I'm sure it wouldn't bother anyone, but just in case! :)

James awoke on the morning of his second day at Hogwarts with a sense of mischievous purpose. It was an oh-so-familiar feeling, one that filled him with a surge of confidence and got the heart thumping in his chest. He recognised it in the shifty glee on Sirius’ face, and they wordlessly revelled in it together as they dressed and made their way down for breakfast much to a quietly observant Remus’ concern.

“You’re not planning on doing anything…” He searched for the right word, a balance between polite and damning. “…ill-advised are you?”

“Don’t ask us what we’re brewing if you know it’s Belladonna, Lupin.” Sirius tapped his nose.

“Just Remus is fine.”

“Luuupin.” Sirius emphasised, with an unamenable glint in his eye.

“Besides, since when do you care?” James cut in. “I thought you didn’t want any more to do with us?”

Remus flushed and Peter gave a few wheezy giggles, eyeing the other two boys hopefully. When he received no acknowledgement he became suddenly engrossed in his bacon.

“I don’t.” Remus retorted shortly and pretended not to see as Sirius rolled his eyes.

At that moment, the first owl of the morning came lolloping into the hall. Even from a distance it was a particularly shabby looking bird and there were a few exclamations of disgust as malting feathers were sprinkled into students’ breakfast around the hall. James squinted at the ceiling. “Wait a minute… I think that’s Ruben!”

“Who?”

“My family owl! Come here boy, come here! No that’s the Slytherin table, you muppet.” He rose and began flapping his arms like a marshaller on a runway. Sure enough, the owl eventually noticed him and made a shaky descent right into the pain au chocolats.

“Oh no.” Sirius said mournfully. “I’ll have to go for brioche instead.”

Closer up he was an even sorrier looking creature, a bit like an old grey mop with a pair of filmy yellow eyes. However, once he’d been steadied by an attentive James and had the letter removed carefully from his ankle he hooted a little and appeared revived.

“Who’s a good owl?” James cooed, stroking his feathers with one hand and opening the letter with the other. “You are! You didn’t even vomit on me this time!”

“James, I really wouldn’t test fate.”

“And what’s this?” He held the parchment up to his eyes and scanned the lines. “Mum and dad say congrats for Gryffindor but they’d have complained the Sorting Hat was going senile if I was placed anywhere else. Oh and say hi to Hagrid, whatever that means.”

“He’s the half-breed giant who helped us onto the boats that first night!” Sirius explained. “Bellatrix complained about him every Christmas when she came back from Hogwarts. I heard he once crushed a first year’s head like a grape.”

Peter gulped. “That’s not actually true, is it? Dumbledore wouldn’t let anything dangerous into the school.”

“Guess we’ll have to find out.” James said and gave Ruben a last affectionate pat before he flailed off into the sky once more. “But nah, I doubt it. He seemed friendly enough.”

“Maybe that’s how he lures his victims in.” Sirius suggested. “You think he’s all nice, he’ll invite you over for tea and then BAM!” He clapped his hands and Peter jumped in his seat. “Your brain’s on the carpet.”

“James, don’t go and visit Hagrid.” He entreated desperately but James was distracted by something above them. Amongst a neutral cyclone of grey, white and beige a certain crimson envelope stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Uh oh!” He said, nudging Sirius with his elbow. “Somebody’s got a Howler!”

“No way.” A boy nearby them said, pointing up so his friends could see. “He’s right! Look up there!”

Soon enough the whole hall was buzzing with energy and craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the unlucky letter. A few were already laughing and rubbing their hands together in anticipation of a little classic school humiliation. There was at least one Howler a year and as long as you weren’t the one receiving it, it was good sport for everybody.

“You see it, Sirius? Sirius?”

Sirius wasn’t listening but rather squinting upwards, his face pale as though he were about to be sick. In a sudden graceful swoop, the black owl clutching the letter in its claws dove down and landed right in front of him. The bird’s beady eyes glistened with malice as it released its cargo and ruffled its inky feathers before sweeping once again into the sky without even a cursory nip. There was an immediate silence as practically the entire hall and certainly every Gryffindor in the proximity turned to stare at Sirius who had gone from pale to white, his shaking hands hovering above the letter as though reluctant to even touch it.

“Dunk it in your tea.” James whispered frantically as it began to smoulder around the edges. “Maybe that’ll put it out.”

“It’s no use.” Sirius murmured back.

“Well then give it to me.” James continued insistently. “I’ll run with it outside and then no one will hear.”

“What… what’s it going to do?” Peter stammered as the envelope began to emit sparks.

“You’ll never get there in time. Look, I’m just going to open it.” Sirius tucked a lock of hair behind his ear and his face was left looking bare, clear and vulnerable. He lifted the envelope and, with shaking hands, broke the wax seal. Immediately a blast of noise burst from it with such force that it was rent free of his hands and slammed against the table.

“SIRIUS BLACK, YOU DISGUST ME. YOU HAVE BROUGHT SHAME TO YOUR FAMILY, YOUR NAME AND THE ENTIRE PURE-BLOODED WIZARDING WORLD. NEVER BEFORE IN MY LIFE HAVE I ENCOUNTERED SUCH A SHOCKING DISAPPOINTMENT AS THIS! GRYFFINDOR HOUSE!? GRYFFINDOR!? WE RAISED YOU BETTER THAN THIS YOU BLOOD-TRAITOR BRAT! HOW DARE YOU! I REFUSE TO HAVE YOU IN THIS HOUSE IN THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS. YOU CAN STAY AND ROT IN YOUR REPULSIVE GRYFFINDOR COMMON ROOM FOR ALL I OR YOUR FATHER CARE. NOT ONLY THAT BUT YOUR FOOLISH, LECHEROUS HARLOT OF A COUSIN IS QUICKENING WITH THE SPAWN OF SOME MUDBLOOD ANIMAL AS WE SPEAK! IN THE ANCIENT AND NOBLE HISTORY OF OUR HOUSE NEVER BEFORE HAVE WE HAD SUCH A CONCESSION OF DISGRACES AND YOU WILL BE HELD TO ACCOUNT! I CAN ONLY PRAY TO GOD THAT YOUR BROTHER DOES NOT TREAD A TOE IN YOUR FOOTSTEPS. BE PLEASED WE HAVEN’T CUT YOU OFF ALTOGETHER YOU TRAITOROUS, INSOLENT BOY!”

With a final roar of fury, the letter spontaneously erupted into flames and was reduced to cinders that fluttered harmlessly to the table and hissed in James’ cereal. For a moment the whole room remained in a state of horrified silence. Then, all at once, it burst into a cacophony of scandalised chatter.

“I can’t believe she actually said that!”

“Said what? What’s a mudblood?”

“Shhh, you can’t just say it.”

“What a set of lungs, the banshee. My ears are still ringing.”

“Typical Blacks. Those old pureblood families are all the same.”

“Are you ok, Sirius?” Remus said softly, barely audible over the noise around them.

“She was so mad.” Sirius choked out, shaking his head so his hair fell back into his eyes. He hadn’t stop staring at the ashes of the Howler, transfixed and appearing as if it alone had aged him three years. “I mean, I knew she’d be furious but I’ve never heard her so angry.”

“What the hell was she thinking sending you a message like that at school?” James said, with righteous ire. “I’m sorry, mate, that was awful. God, she’s off her rocker isn’t she?”

“That’s an understatement. She’s going to _kill_ me.” The tone of Sirius’ voice was so dire that for a moment they all completely believed him. “And I’ll be alone all Christmas hols without even drippy Regulus for company.”

“What? No you won’t.” James protested. “I’ll stay with you! Christmas at Hogwarts is a proper experience, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, James.” Sirius said miserably. “You’ll want to see your family, decorate a tree, leave cookies and firewhisky for St Nick or whatever it is normal people do at Christmas.”

“What do you do?” Peter asked, aware he probably wouldn’t like the answer.

“Burn green candles in mourning for the death of global pureblood tradition in exchange for muggle commercialised religious ceremony.”

“Nice. Sounds like a party.”

“I’m staying.” James said stubbornly. “And I mean it when I say it’s not just because of you Sirius. There’ll be a hundred Christmases after Hogwarts for all of that boring stuff; I want to have Christmas here.”

“Thanks, James.” Sirius said and a little bit of the colour had returned to his face.

“I’ll stay too!” Peter intruded eagerly. “I’d be a numpty to miss out on my first magic Christmas.”

“Ah, Pete, you really don’t have to do that.”

“That’s okay, Sirius.” Peter said courageously, slapping a hand against his crest. “I’m a Gryffindor, through and through. It’ll be fun spending Christmas with my new house.”

“Excellent. Suppose it’s a date then.” James said, only slightly reluctantly. “In any case, don’t bother whining. We’re all staying and we’re going to have a jolly good time, with or without candles of death.”

To Sirius the sooty remains of the letter suddenly appeared insubstantial and pathetic. His mother had given him an earful, so what? That was hardly a rare occurrence. He raked a hand through his hair and with it dismissed any and all heavy thoughts, felt the tight hand of his mother be flung off and all her cold, gaudy rings skitter across the floor like they were nothing.

“Sounds like a much better holiday than I’ve had before.” Sirius grinned, the tension draining from his shoulders like he’d just shod a heavy coat. “As long as you all get me quality presents. I’m proposing a 5 galleon minimum price limit.”

James paled. “Mate, you’re kidding, right? That’s half my yearly pocket money.”

“Of course he’s kidding. He looks like he’s trying to hold a fish in his mouth.” Remus said. Sirius frowned down at his lips and even though he really didn’t, the observation was still somehow strikingly accurate.

“We’ve got Transfiguration first.” Peter whined, looking down at his timetable which had already been torn and soaked in pumpkin juice. “With scary Professor McGoogle, or whatever her name is.”

“McGonagall, Mr Pettigrew.” Said a prim, Scottish voice from behind them. Peter jerked and pumpkin juice went splattering all over his timetable again.

“Professor McGonagall!” James exclaimed, stretching out his arms as if he were about to go for a hug. The Professor eyed him like he might have leprosy. “I’m so excited for my first ever transfiguration lesson. I just want you to know I will be an incredibly dedicated student.”

“Dedicated to disruption, no doubt.” She sniffed before turning with a slightly more sympathetic eye to Sirius. “Mr Black, as your head of house I thought it pertinent to ensure you knew how welcome you are to Gryffindor and to remind you that good things can come from bad stock.” With a flick of her wand, she vanished the remains of the Howler. “I have the greatest confidence you will be a valuable addition to our house.”

“Thank you Professor.” Sirius nodded. “Was that a compliment?”

“It was a…” She paused. “Tip. And a reminder not to disappoint us. I’ll see you in 23 minutes, boys.” With that she marched from the hall, a comforting figure of reliable purpose, only pausing to whisper something harsh into the midst of some rowdy upper year students who quietened meekly.

“Wonder what we’ll be doing in her lesson?” James wondered aloud as Peter cursed his own rotten luck. How was it Professor McGonagall always seemed to appear at the most inopportune moments?

“Something terrific.” Sirius guessed. “Like transfiguring lockets into spiders or wardrobes into doors to other dimensions.”

“Wasn’t that a book?” Remus said but nobody took any notice.

“Ollivander said my wand was perfect for transfiguration.” James said, pulling it out to show them. “And who knows what kind of things we’ll learn from an animagus?”

“How to always land on two feet?”

“Oh hush, even you couldn’t make turning into an animal uncool.” Sirius retorted and Remus made a sound that resembled a hybrid between a hum and a high cough. “I just want to get my wand on some creepy crawlies.”

***

“This is not what I expected.” The slim, silver needle that lay innocuously on James’ desk barely caught the light. It did not creep, nor did it crawl. It simply trembled there, not even sharp enough to cause any fun having still retained a slightly rounded edge reminiscent of its former existence as a match.

Sirius lazily flicked his wand at his own far less evolved matchstick, no longer even attempting to transfigure it. It had taken James what seemed like a bajillion tries to finally refurbish his and looking around the room he could see he was the only one to have done so. Remus’ was looking a little silver and had definitely sharpened but Peter appeared to have lost his and the rest of the class had fared little better.

“The transfiguration of a match into a needle as the introduction to my class is a tradition that students have inured for generations.” Professor McGonagall had primly explained when the class had set about groaning at the allocation of their lesson. “It is a perfect example of the sensitivity of the practice of transfiguration: the fundamental reconstruction of an object, from its base materials to its appearance, is not a simple task. We begin with a seemingly comparable transfiguration of match to needle and thus understand the true complexity that makes up even the commonest of our surroundings. This is an opportunity not to take for granted this new power: transfiguration is an inherent transformation of a unique to its opposite and that is no insignificant feat.”

James hadn’t really taken in anything she’d said but by the look of sombre understanding on Remus’ face and the verbosity with which she’d spoken he’d at least assumed upon transfiguration the needle would do… something. He’d at least be enlightened to some deep knowledge or set off a couple of sparks. Instead he had spent most of the lesson slavishly flapping his wand at a matchstick and examining it eagerly for the minutest of changes. It had felt like a proper waste of time and not at all in line with the enthusiasm with which his parents had raved about transfiguration.

“Lookie there.” Sirius suddenly pointed out, placing a hand on James’ shoulder and drawing him in line with his own sight. “It’s Snape and his confounded sweetheart.” Sure enough, near the front of the room Snape and Lily were hunched over a desk together, the only inter-house pair in the room.

A little of James’ frustration flared up in his chest. “Want to mess with him a little?”

“You never need to ask me that.”

Wracking his brain, it didn’t take James long to come up with a ploy. “Oi!” He stage-whispered to the desk behind them. “Oi, Lupin!”

Remus hesitated as if he were very seriously considering ignoring him before eventually looking up. “Yes?”

“Lend me your matchstick.”

Bewildered, he looked from his sharp matchstick to the mischievous expression on James’ face. “What for?”

“Nothing, nothing honestly. I just want to compare sizes.”

“They’re the same size. They’re just matchsticks.”

“Well then let me take a look, go on, there’s no harm.”

Sirius seemed to twig on and began nodding consolidatingly. “Yeah, you’ll be helping our study.”

“Well, I suppose…” Remus lifted his matchstick indecisively and that was all it took for James to snatch it out of his hands.

“Ta!” He called cheerily before turning to Sirius with a look of ardent seriousness. “Alright that’s step one, could you distract McGonagall for me?”

“I feel as if you’re doing all the work.” He replied, perfervid, and stuck his hand as high into the air as he could muster, straining it painfully and hopping up and down as if he might burst. “Professor McGonagall! Excuse me, Professor!”

“Yes, Mr Black?” She said, straightening up from where she’d been advising a student.

“Professor, after all those wonderful things you said about the complexity of transfiguration I began to feel really inspirited.”

“Well that’s pleasant to hear, but I’m not sure it’s really relevant to our lesson.”

“Oh no, but Professor, after having an opportunity today to simply test the waters of a boundless ocean of discovery,” her eyebrows pinched at the analogy. “I was curious as to just how far we could go if we chose to pursue a path of transfiguration, to roam into the deep forest of-”

“You’re point, Mr Black?” She said, somewhat impatiently.

“Right, right. Well I was wondering, could you maybe turn into a cat?”

Silence descended across the classroom. Every head turned to look at Sirius who maintained a resolutely innocent, curious expression as if he hadn’t just spoken aloud a silent taboo. Professor McGonagall herself remained utterly impassive until eventually letting loose a low sigh and removing her hat.

“Thank you Mr Black for such a rousing entreaty. In fact, I was wondering when someone would ask.” And with that, her body seemed to melt away and in its place sat a lean tabby cat with spectacle marks around its eyes.

Every student in the room rose to their feet and gave great exclamations of delight, leaning over each other to get a look. Nobody noticed James slipping quietly from his seat, least of all the Professor herself who was prowling somewhat proudly between the desks, basking in the admiration.

“She can actually turn into a cat!” Peter rejoiced, breaking away from his anxious hunt for the missing matchstick.

“It’s completely at her will.” Remus marvelled. “She can come and go as she pleases, like flicking on a light.”

“She’s got a tail!” Sirius prioritised, practically slumped across his desk and patting the feline affectionately on the head as she passed. Although the Professor did swerve her head away, she didn’t bite him which Sirius imagined was as close as he would come to approval.

When the excitement had died down, Professor McGonagall rose back up to her full height as easily as shrugging on a coat. She neatly arranged her hat back onto her head, and granted them all a reserved smile stretched across slightly rosier cheeks.

“I’m glad you enjoyed that object example.” She said, stepping back behind her desk and shuffling some papers busily. “Now, please, sit back down and resume your work.”

The moment she had said this and there was a flurry to sit, a shrill shriek was emitted from the front row. Severus Snape clutched at his behind, hand fumbling over a very sharp matchstick that had imbedded itself into his rear and flushing red as Lily tried to help. The students descended into hysterics once more, notably loud laughter coming from the joint desk of Sirius and James who could barely crane their necks to leer at him they were so wracked by giggles.

The rosiness faded rather dramatically from Professor McGongalls cheeks. Once the matchstick had been removed and Severus had taken his seat, looking murderous, she held it aloft for the class to see. “Whose match is this?”

Heads inconspicuously turned to James and Sirius but it was a timorous Remus Lupin who raised his hand. “Please Professor, it’s mine but I didn’t-”

“Normally, Mr Lupin, I would applaud you on the excellent structure you have achieved. However, since you chose to act so juvenilely, I’m afraid I will be forced to deduct points rather than award them, and from my own house. 10 points from Gryffindor.”

A simultaneous hiss of victory from the Slytherins and moan of disappointment from the Gryffindors rippled across the room. Remus sunk as low as he could in his chair, a faint flush burning his pale cheeks. James felt a jolt of guilt, even as Sirius snickered into his ear. He hadn’t for a moment anticipated that someone else would get the credit for his prank and thus the blame. Immediately he raised his hand.

“Professor McGonagall, I’m sorry, but Remus didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It may appear that way to you Mr Potter,” She cut him off before he could continue. “But so-called harmless practical jokes can sometimes have dangerous consequences. It’s best you learn that now than suffer later.” For a second he thought he saw the glimpse of something knowing in her eye but it disappeared as quickly as he noticed it. “I am sorry to leave the lesson on such a sour note but it is the end of first period. You are dismissed.”

Remus didn’t even look at them at the end of the lesson; he just stood up and left, keeping his head bowed to the ground.

“It’s only 10 points.” Sirius rolled his eyes after him. “That’s barely a drop in the cauldron. Why’s he got to be so wet?”

“Yeah, he’s like a wet blanket.” Peter added, nodding in agreement.

“It’s not funny, mate.” James said. “He’s weird about getting in trouble; what might seem nothing to us is practically criminal to him. Plus he didn’t do anything wrong. It was me who put the match on Snape’s chair.”

“Just as I thought.” Came a voice from behind them. Lily Evans glared at the two boys, Severus hanging sullenly at her shoulder. “So you not only played such a mean prank but you let poor Remus take the blame for it?”

“That’s low, Potter, even for you.” Severus tagged on, his tone silkily smug at suddenly having the moral high ground. 

“He didn’t mean for Lupin to get caught in the cross-fire.” Sirius said defensively. “And it was only a joke there’s no need to be a pain in the arse about it.” He mocked a look of honest surprise. “Oh wait…”

“Not funny.” Severus growled but this time one look from Lily was all it took for him to pull back, fuming. “But also not worth our time. Enjoy losing more points.”

“And more friends.” Lily agreed. “Which we aren’t anymore, by the way, just in case you were under that delusion.”

“Of course not.” Peter said quickly. “We don’t need to be friends with Slytherins or girls. You can just leave us alone.”

“You heard the man.” Sirius said blithely, slinging an arm around James’ shoulders in solidarity. “And it doesn’t matter how many points we lose. At the end of the year Gryffindor’ll still be the best house.”

“I hope so, since it’s my house as well.” Lily reminded them. “And I’d hate to think it’s only associated with the likes of you.”

“God, can nobody take a joke?” Sirius commented as they were walking to their next class. “It’s not like we really hurt anybody or even caused a mess. All these disapproving glares are beginning to make me feel like I’m at home again.”

“I thought it was cracking.” Peter said to James. “And everybody else laughed. It’s just Snape and Lily who’ve got a problem, and Remus I guess but he did get in trouble.”

“You don’t still feel bad about that, do you James?” Sirius asked, noticing the pensive look on his friend’s face. “Come on, Lupin’ll get over it. Maybe it’ll even do him some good, toughen him up a little.”

“I think McGonagall knew it was me.” James said and voicing his suspicion aloud made it sound even more credible. “And she told Remus off anyway because she wanted to punish me through him.”

“Why?” Peter asked.

“Because she’s a little bit of a sadist, probably.” Sirius shrugged. “Either way, we’re still on for next lesson Jamie, right? You’re not getting cold feet?”

“Cold feet about what?” Peter puzzled, looking between them. “What are you planning? Can I help?”

“It’s nothing Peter, and of course I’m still in. But I want to apologise to Lupin when I can.”

Sirius didn’t look bothered but offered no resistance. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

James nodded and felt a little of the guilty weight in his chest lift. McGonagall had been trying to teach him that actions had consequences, that a well-intentioned action could have negative repercussions and not just on himself. But Sirius was right: it didn’t really matter. He’d own up more fiercely next time and after he’d apologised to Lupin, let bygones be bygones. That mischievous flame hadn’t gone out and he was no less excited to cause a little havoc.


	5. Muggleborn Fodder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Sirius explore. Flying lessons, eagerly awaited by some and dreaded by others. "Severus Snape needs a hobby other than being mean to people he's jealous of." - James Potter, probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while but nobody actually reads this so lol it doesn't matter  
> Also this one is loooong so buckle up

Lesson two was Charms and luckily for Sirius and James, Professor Flitwick was in a particularly affable mood. All it took was a few weak attempts at a cough and a slightly more impressive feigned swoon from Sirius to have them both dismissed from the lesson under the pretence of a visit to the hospital wing. Nobody else in the classroom was even a tiny bit fooled. Remus was refusing to look at them but Lily rolled her eyes as they passed, staggering and clutching at each other as they struggled to the door.

James winked at her. She made a slow slicing action across her neck.

“I can never understand girls.” James said with the air of someone who’d had far more experience with them than he actually had. “Like, what was that supposed to me?”

“Well generally it means drop dead.” Sirius said, skipping ahead down a particularly long, empty stretch of corridor. Neither of them were certain what they were looking for but James had in his head some of the things his mum had mentioned about secret passageways. In particular, he recalled, she had been convinced there had to be one leading to Hogsmeade but had never been able to figure out where it was.

“This is no help whatsoever.” Sirius said, crouched down with James behind a magnificent statue of a hunchbacked witch to avoid a gaggle of ghosts. He was examining the map Professor McGonagall had given them that morning. “I can’t make head or tails of it. You’d think they’d have the decency to label any handy illegal exits in and out of the school, make our lives a lot easier.”

Unfortunately it appeared that secret passageways, unlike most things, were not going to be presented to the boys on a silver platter. Eventually they resolved to file that expedition away for another time and have a romp across the grounds.

It was a delightful day with a mild breeze and only the faintest wisps of cloud overhead, the ghosts of the stormier autumn weather to come. The grounds of Hogwarts were lush green and rolling and the austere, dark treetops of the forbidden forest presented so harsh and ominous a dichotomy, both boys felt intimidated enough not to venture in that exact moment.

“We wouldn’t have long enough to take a real look around anyway.” James reasoned, swinging on his heels with his hands in his pockets feeling tall and grown up at the crest of a slope. “Leave it until the weekend when we’ve plenty of time to explore.”

“Or better yet, leave it until nightfall.” Sirius grinned. “All the interesting things come out then.”

“Interesting? You think werewolves and… and lethifolds are interesting?” James said incredulously.

“Scared, Potter?” Sirius said teasingly.

“You wish.” James snorted, shoving his friend lightly in the arm.

Sirius shoved him back. They grappled for a moment, grunting joyfully as their skinny arms knocked and slipped over each other before both tumbling down the hill, rolling in a flurry of limbs that made each boy feel interchangeable with the other. They landed with a gentle thump at the bottom, both battered and covered in dandelion fluff but huffing with laughter, Sirius’ head rested comfortably on James’ stomach.

After that, time seemed to slip away as they played tag across the grass, roaming further from the sight of the school and happening upon all sorts of entertaining things. They overturned a rock and attempted unsuccessfully to capture a pixie that flew out from under it. They found a monstrous rabbit hole so spacious they could both just about crouch inside of it. James almost toppled headfirst into a pond filled with bizarre pulsating frog spawn and at one point Sirius caught sight of a hut with an enormous dog shackled outside of it, sprawled on its stomach and yawning impressively in the sunlight.

“That must be where the half-breed Hagrid lives.” He hypothesised and then yanked James behind a tree as the door swung open. “Look, there he is!”

“Blimey he’s ginormous.” James said, squinting in disbelief. “I reckon he maybe could crush someone’s head, his hands are the size of cauldrons!”

Hagrid didn’t do any head-crushing as they observed him; instead he appeared to chuckle, pat his dogs head and then stroll off into the forest, whistling merrily as he plunged into its dark boughs. James had to admit, it was a little disappointing that someone so huge seemed to be completely harmless.

“If I was that tall,” He told Sirius as their stomachs began to growl and they made their way back up to the castle for lunch. “I wouldn’t take anything from anyone, you know what I mean? I’d intimidate every Slytherin in the school into looking away when they saw me in the corridors.”

“Shame you’re such a gnome then.” Sirius grinned and batted him back when James offered a swipe at his head. “Say, we forgot all about exploring. I don’t think we’ve covered even a quarter of the grounds.”

“Nonsense.” James said. “We found that pond, didn’t we? That spawn was something to pour down Snape’s back. Besides…” He trailed off and then shrugged pointlessly. “We had fun. I reckon that was far more productive than sitting through another dreary Herbology lesson.”

“Yeah.” Sirius nodded. They passed Professor Flitwick in the courtyard as they re-entered the school and waved eagerly at him. “Feeling much better now, Professor!”

“Excellent to hear, boys!” He responded chipperly in return and shook his head at the rumpled state of their robes and hair. “Merlin help us, these first years are trouble.”

Peter’s head perked like a meerkat’s as they entered the Great Hall. “There you are!” He said enthusiastically, leaving Remus looking a little miffed as he rushed to greet them. “When you weren’t in Herbology I was really worried. I thought you were sick.”

“Oh yeah.” James said. “I vomited around… must have been…”

“Eight times.” Sirius supplied, eyes widening in a haunted fashion. “It was horrible, it just wouldn’t stop. Just puking like a fountain, I thought he’d hurl up his lungs eventually.”

Peter looked genuinely distressed. “Should you be going back to classes?”

James struggled to hold back a smile. “No probably not. But I put my foot down and told Madame Pomfrey I just couldn’t miss another second of school and she understood.”

“Wow.” Peter said in awe. “You’d better have some potatoes then. Your stomach must be empty.”

He led them back to where he was sitting and Remus coldly avoided their gaze. Once they’d sat and piled their plates James coughed uncomfortably.

“Hey, er, Lupin?” He didn’t receive an answer. “I wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened in Transfiguration. I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble and I should have protested more. We won’t let anyone give you a hard time over it, we swear.”

Remus didn’t answer. He didn’t eat either, biting his thumbnail and staring pointedly out of the window. Impatiently Sirius clicked his fingers by his ear and he jolted to attention with a withering glare.

“Hey, James just apologised to you.” Sirius said insistently. “Even thought it was McGonagall’s fault that we lost points. So the least you can do is say something to him, not keep sulking with your tail between your legs.”

If possible, Remus’ expression darkened. “They all know it was you.”

“They know what was us?”

“The prank. Everyone knows it was you.” Angrily, he speared a chip on his fork and ate it. “And they all think your bloody brilliant. So no worries. I’m not getting a hard time.”

“Then you accept our apology?” James said, even though Sirius’ nose wrinkled at the use of ‘our’.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes it matters. I want to know there’s no hard feelings.”

“There’s no hard feelings.” Remus stood up, his plate still full. “Make sure to catch up on what you missed in Charms and Herbology. It’ll probably be important later on in the course.” With that he left them.

“I think you did all you could.” Sirius said, tucking into his lunch. “Just quit bothering with him James. We’re not going to be friends.”

“Hmm.” James couldn’t shake the guilty feeling that McGonagall had planted in his chest. Plus he still thought Remus didn’t seem all too bad, just fringing the line between anxiety and fun. Every now and again he’d crack a joke or play along in a way that made James think they could be friends but then he’d shrink away and be reduced to a pallid, fearful silence. It was a mystery, especially since he was supposed to be a Gryffindor.

“What’re you drawing?” He asked Sirius, trying to snap out of it. He had produced a scrap of parchment and was doodling on it, his fine dark quill dancing across the page. With a grin and a flourish he lifted it up to show the inky beginnings of a sketch of the school. It was remarkably well drawn and instantly recognisable. James could make out the four towers, Hagrid’s hut on the grounds and all the greenhouses with scratched diamond patterns to emulate the glass rooves.

“It’s a map!” Peter said.

“We need a better map of this school if we intend to run it.” Sirius said matter-of-factly.

“How did you remember all of that?” James wondered.

“I’m well versed in French architecture.” He flicked his hair smugly over one shoulder. “Thank my anal pureblood upbringing.”

Peter’s eyes widened dramatically. “Your _what_ upbringing?”

“Anal.” Sirius said obliviously. “Fastidious. Pernickety. I’m not a dictionary, Pettigrew.”

“Right.” He took an awkward sip of his pumpkin juice.

“Keep adding to it.” James said, drawing them back to the matter at hand. “It’ll be gold dust to have a map of the school. Only thing that’d be more use was a map of Filch.”

“And his mangy old cat.” Sirius shivered. “I hate cats. One day it’s going to sneak up on me and I’ll instinctively kick it into next solstice.”

“And Filch’ll manacle you upside down by your ankles.” James said. “Mum’s told me all sorts of things about him. He used to whip kids until Dumbledore became headmaster and he still keeps the swatches.”

“A map of Filch.” Sirius said contemplatively. “Now that _would_ be useful.”

***

The rest of the week passed relatively uneventfully, besides a few more botched attempts to escape lessons on James and Sirius’ parts. On Thursday they made the mistake of attempting to hoodwink Professor McGonagall who wasn’t fooled for a moment and insisted on escorting them to the medical wing herself. Madame Pompfrey then became increasingly concerned about their made-up symptoms, making them take a bizarre myriad of repulsive experimental potions until they were practically begging her to let them back to lessons.

“Note to self:” James groaned when they arrived back in the Great Hall Friday morning after being forced to remain in the medical wing overnight ‘for observation’. “Never, ever, ever catch Dragon Pox. That so-called medicine was the worst thing my tongue has ever touched.”

“Nothing will ever taste good again. Flavour has lost all worldly appeal.” Sirius lamented, immediately perking up as soon as they’d taken a seat and assessed the breakfast fare. “Ooo, they’ve got hash browns.”

They sat inadvertently opposite Peter and Remus and couldn’t ignore the fact that the former was acting a little out of sorts. For one his plate was piled high but his cutlery was spotless and there weren’t any baked beans down his shirt which meant he hadn’t eaten anything. For two his eyes were wide and haunted looking, as if he’d stared into his tea cup and seen the Grim smiling back. For three he was twitching and murmuring to himself and Remus had even stopped ignoring them to send James and Sirius a look that screamed disturbed.

“You alright, Pete?” James asked through a mouthful of toast. Normally he wouldn’t be bothered to ask someone how they were doing, but Peter really was rocking worryingly two-and-fro and hadn’t even eagerly acknowledged their existence yet. “Finally cracked? It’s ok, not every muggleborn can handle it right away.”

When he didn’t reply, Sirius waved a hand by his eyes. “Yoo hoo? Peter Pettigrew? Anyone home?”

Slowly, Peter turned his ghoulish eyes onto them. “Do you know what day it is today?” He trembled.

“Friday, my good chap.” James said energetically. “Almost the weekend. One day closer to Christmas.”

“Do you know what’s happening today?” Peter said, slightly more urgently.

“Is there a duel we’ve forgotten about? I think I’d remember if I’d offered to duel someone.” Sirius said, although he didn’t sound so sure.

“Flying lessons.” Remus said calmly.

At the same time, with the air of a captive at the sacrificial altar making one final, desperate appeal to the vengeful gods, Peter said “Flying lessons!”

James slapped himself in the face. “Flying lessons! This is brilliant! How could I forget flying lessons?”

“That’s today?” Sirius said, not exhibiting self-violence but sounding curious all the same. “Oh and with the lovely Madame Hooch as well. What a fine time to be alive.”

“Peter thinks he’s going to die.” Remus said wearily, as if the idea had lost all meaning. “Please tell him he isn’t going to die because he’s ceased respecting the voice of reason.”

“Have you seen broomsticks?” Peter demanded. “They’re knobbly and flimsy and snap like that! Maybe _you’ll_ be alright Remus, I’d think you were a broomstick yourself if you didn’t talk every now and again, but I’ll fall off in seconds!”

Remus didn’t look intensely flattered at that comparison and opened his mouth to retort when James cut him off. “Quit speaking mermish, Pete, you won’t fall off the broom unless it wants you off.”

“What if it wants me off!” Peter squeaked.

“It won’t! Look, flying is a piece of cake. It’s the best, most easiest, funnest thing in the world if you don’t think about it.”

“So I suppose you’re a natural.” Remus said dryly.

“Of course.” James boasted. “I’ve been in the Quidditch Midlands Goblin League for the past 5 years.”

“Goblin League?”

“Yeah, mild technicality issue. It was meant to be a goblin sport but they decided to categorise by height and pushy parents just entered their children. Goblins never actually play now.” He winced, as if remembering something sour. “Well, hardly ever. And to be honest I don’t imagine it’ll be much worse than playing against Slytherin.”

“We’ve got our flying lessons with _Slytherin_?” Peter squeaked.

“And they expect us not to kill each other?” Sirius said incredulously before adopting a flawless recreation of Professor McGonagall’s Scottish accent.  “Yes, let’s arm the children with broomsticks and set them on each other. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Is it just me,” Peter said tremulously. “Or is Garrett Goyle looking particularly massive today?”

“No more mountainous than any other day.” Remus answered, having barely looked up from his cornflakes to check.

“I’m sort of looking forward to it.” James broke in, raising an eyebrow at their disbelieving expressions. “What? I get to whip the Slytherins’ backsides at Quidditch and hopefully see Snape fall off his broom.”

“Or knock him off.” Sirius said, cottoning on. “If we must take fate into our own hands, that is.”

“And the rest of the house can reap the consequences when you lose us more points.” Remus bit.

“You’re not still hung up on 10 little points are you Lupin?” Sirius groaned. “You’ve earnt back twice that with your goody-goodiness. What do you want, a singing commiserations card?” He eyed the frayed edges of Remus’ robes. “A word with my tailor? Because I understand stylishly distressed but this…” He trailed off, savouring the way his cheeks flushed with mortification.

“Shut up, Black.” Remus muttered and then went an even darker red when he crowed in delight, growing in enthusiasm until James had to elbow him in the arm.

“Lay off, mate.”

“Ouch.” Sirius whined. “I don’t see why you’re out to injure your star player, Jamesy. You and I, we’re going to have to carry this team with flyers like this and that.” He gestured to Pete, still trembling, and Remus, still fuming, in turn.

“Oh no need to worry.” James grinned. “With me on the team, that’s all Gryffindor needs.”

Unfortunately, the weather seemed to have other plans. As the Gryffindors and Slytherins stood gathered on the grounds several anxious looks were sent heavenward at the mottled grey sky which would every now and again grumble with an ominous round of thunder. Peter, who appeared to take this as some sort of celestial judgement, had almost made a run for it before Remus dragged him back with an uncharacteristic show of strength.

“You’re going to play truant in the first week?” He said incredulously, even as Peter mumbled a garbled prayer beneath his breath. “Peter, you do know they can’t actually make you get on the broom, right? If you trembled pathetically enough at Madame Hooch I’m sure she’d let you sit out.”

“I don’t want to sit out. I’m not a baby.” Peter insisted, his eyes roving over to James and Sirius who appeared to be performing some sort of rain dance, much to the other Gryffindors’ amusement.

“Naturally.” Remus sighed, before squinting up at the clouds. “I doubt they’ll even let us fly in this weather. I mean, just think of the convection currents. Only a madman would force first years to go flying in that.”

“Mad _woman_ , Mr Lupin.” Came an authoritative voice from behind them, shortly followed by an impressive crash which made all the students jump. Madame Hooch smiled in satisfaction, crossing her muscular arms and flipping her silver hair over one shoulder, a pile of brooms in a heap at her feet. “And if a few storm clouds are all it takes to cow you first years, I fear for the Quidditch cup.”

“We’re not scared, miss!” A miscellaneous Slytherin called, which triggered a cheer of agreement from the green and silver side of the group.

“Well we’re not either!” Marlene insisted.

“Yeah, just cause Lupin’s a pansy doesn’t mean the rest of us are.” James said which earnt a burst of laughter.

Remus found he didn’t even have the energy to feel embarrassed but did squirm when he felt Madame Hooch’s piercing gaze on him. When she met his eye she gave a small, significant smirk and raised an eyebrow.

Great, he thought, so now even the P.E teacher knows I’m a werewolf. What had Professor McGonagall said about artful discretion again?

“That’s good to hear.” Madame Hooch said. “Unfortunately one of the key lessons you have to learn before going anywhere near a broom is a sense of sportsmanship. And it’s not very cricket, as the muggles say, to call members of your team garden plants.”

“Duly noted.” Sirius said, smoothly forcing his way to the front of the huddle. “Although surely I’d be forgiven if I called you the loveliest rose in the thicket?” There was a harmonious outbreak of groans, gasps and laughter, mainly from Madame Hooch herself who wiped tears of mirth from her eyes as Sirius stood on resolute, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh Mr Black,” She giggled eventually before hardening her expression. “Let’s see if you can handle a broom first.” A burst of ‘oooh!’ rippled across the grounds but Sirius remained unfazed, raising his hands and taking a step back, the gleam in his eye screaming ‘challenge accepted’.

“Alright first-years,” Madame Hooch barked, spreading the brooms apart with a foot. “Welcome to you first flying lesson. I’d like you to all come and select a broom from this pile here and create two lines facing each other. Place the broom at your feet and wait for more instructions.”

There was a mad rush to get the best brooms from those who had experience and James and Sirius found themselves with Cleansweeps which weren’t bad, all things considered. Peter’s broom wasn’t even branded and looked borderline homemade but he didn’t seem all that concerned. In fact, he looked more focused on trying not to be sick. “Now, hold out your hand and say UP.” Madame Hooch commanded, giving an example. The broom by her feet swung up into her hand like a devoted dog to noises of shock from the students. “You give it a go. Nice loud voices now. UP.”

Immediately every student began bellowing ‘Up!’ at the top of their lungs.  Inevitably, James’ and Sirius’ brooms needed no prompting. Peter meanwhile experienced more difficulty as his broom seemed to be struggling valiantly against its master’s anxiety. Snape’s broom was up by the third go and Lily Evans’ by the fourth, James noticed but she didn’t look all that bothered with the whole affair. In truth, Lily Evans thought Quidditch was much too like football for her liking. She’d never been a massive fan of organised sports.

Severus Snape’s line of thought was simply to try and upstage arrogant Potter who everyone already seemed confident was the best at this stupid aerial game. He’d spent almost the whole morning showing off to his Gryffindor lackeys and it had been enough to make his stomach churn with envy. Why everyone seemed to fall apart with laughter whenever he or Black did anything was mystifying. Even Lily was forcing back a smile when they began that ridiculous rain dance.

He tightened his grip on his broom. It didn’t matter. Boys like Potter were all bark and no bite. Maybe he’d get 2 feet in the air and swoon and then Severus might find it in him to laugh.

When every broom was in hand, Madame Hooch instructed them to mount and prepare to kick off on her count. “You ready mate?” James asked Sirius, cheeks already flushed as the blood pumped like diesel through his veins.

“More than ready. Now a good time to say I’m scared of heights?”

“Not really.”

“Guess I’ll just have to get over it then.” Automatically switching focus, they looked away and awaited Madame Hooch’s signal.

“1!” She called and James felt the broom beneath him thrum with pent up energy.

“2!” Peter murmured ‘I’m going to die, I’m going to die’ beneath his breath.

“3!” There was the sound of sixty feet leaving the ground and a barely audible whoosh of the air as the Gryffindors and Slytherins sliced through it. James spiralled into the sky like a bullet and allowed himself to fall a little before halting in mid-air. Sirius was a little below him, slightly shaky but beaming like this was the most fun he’d ever had. Peter was hovering maybe two feet above the ground, clinging to the broom and muttering over and over again that he didn’t want to fall off whilst Remus hung lazily above him, as if suspended from a string and looking very unimpressed with the whole situation.

“Very good!” Madame Hooch declared. “Not one false start and you’re all in the air. Particularly well done to Mr Potter and Mr Black.” She winked at them. “I’ll pass on the pet names, but I wouldn’t be disappointed to see you at the Gryffindor try-outs next year boys. Just try to get a feel for the broomstick now and come down when you get tired.” She sent a worried glance at the sky which was still roiling with dark clouds. “Or until the heavens open up on us.”

“I think I’m in love!” Sirius said, pressing a hand against his forehead.

“You don’t love that Quidditch strumpet more than me, do you?” James said, scandalised.

“I mean I dunno Jamesie. Madame Hooch can get me a place on the Gryffindor team. What exactly to you bring to the banquet?”

James grinned, “Watch this.” And pulled into a nosedive so sharp several students mistook him for falling and screamed. He pulled up at the last minute and began threading his way in and out of the other students, diving _underneath_ Peter and rising back up to the sound of cheers and whistles.

“That was wicked!” Sirius crowed. “Do it again, but slower this time. I want to really savour the moment when Snape flails like a flobberworm.”

Peter was the first to stumble from his broom, knees buckling on the grass and Remus and Lily were quick to follow. She stretched out lazily on the grass as if sunbathing, her red hair forming a halo of fire around her head. He brought out some potions homework and tried ardently to ignore the growing shrieks of fear and delight as James executed even crazier, more elaborate tricks.

Severus remained hovering in the sky out of pure spite, despite Lily’s entreaties to come down. He wasn’t going to get off his broomstick whilst Potter and Black were still whizzing around like lunatics and risk looking like a coward. So instead he remained clinging to his broom, dithering awkwardly.

As Sirius increased in confidence, he too began darting around dangerously fast, pulling such tight turns he almost went wheeling off his broom but panting with exhilaration. He and James made quite the tag team, co-ordinating high fives at such high speeds their hands clapped louder than the thunder and even corralling Marlene, Dorcas and some other Gryffindors into a clumsy game of aerial ‘it’ that eventually devolved into seeing how close they could fly to a Slytherin’s head before one toppled off their broom.

Eventually James flew so flush to Fagan Koralite that he ruffled his hair with his broom needles, which sent him pin wheeling out of the sky. Luckily he was only a few feet up, but he still landed beneath his broom with an impressive crunch and spontaneously burst into angry tears. Madame Hooch ordered them all to touch down as she brushed him over for injuries, which seemed to make him perk up a bit and muster a rude pureblood gesture in James’ direction which extinguished any sympathy he might have harboured at his tumble. Besides, he hadn’t broken anything. It was almost charitable of Madame Hooch to give him the next lesson off.

“Not poor work today, first years.” Madame Hooch summarised after he’d limped up to the castle. “Although I don’t think I need tell you that I’d like to see a bit more teamwork and a lot less showing off in future.” She gave a pointed look to James and Sirius, who winked back. It was at that moment that it chose to finally begin raining, fat droplets of water that burst like berries against their robes. “Cripes, there it is. Alright then kids, off to your next lessons. I’ll see you in a fortnight!” Thus commenced a mad rush as the students set off squealing across the grounds, many shielding their heads with satchels.

“James!” Peter cried, chasing after him like a lolloping puppy as he and Sirius dashed through the rain, both balancing bags like water jugs on their heads. “James! That was beyond cool flying! Oi, James!”

“Pettigrew, do you want us to get soaked?” Sirius demanded roughly over his shoulder. “Hold it in for ten more seconds, honestly!” They were just nearing the courtyard now, following the tail of the group as they rushed like splodges of ink one by one into the warm embrace of the doors.

“Alright!” Peter said merrily, too enchanted to be hurt. “But it was so cool! I have no clue how you got that high! I was trembling like a leaf!”

“Believe me, we could all tell.” Sneered a voice from behind them, dripping with ugly sarcasm.

“Merlin’s beard.” Sirius groaned, the rain around them all but forgotten as both he and James turned to see Severus looking even more scrawny and poisonous dripping with water. “You’re indefatigable.”

To his surprise, Severus just gave a cruel smile and ignored him, turning back to Peter. “It seems you’ve set a new record for lowest anyone can possibly fly. How does it feel to defeat everyone else in the field of pathetic?”

“What are you talking about, Snape?” James asked, looking from him to Peter who appeared as if he was already beginning to tear up. “You were so shaky it looked like the broomstick was trying to buck you off. I don’t blame it. I would too if I had something as greasy as you on my back.”

A vein began to pulse in his temple but when Severus spoke, his voice was still steady. “At least if I’d fallen I might have broken something. If Pettigrew had fallen, he’d barely have felt it through his fat rump.”

Now Peter was beginning to snivel and Sirius let loose a soft snarl. “Pick on someone your own size, Snape. Oh wait, I don’t see any other half-drowned snakes spewing their blood-purist poison all over these nice courtyard tiles.”

“So it’s poison he’s leaking!” James exclaimed, knocking his forehead as if he’d been exceptionally dim. “I thought it was just grease.” Peter began giggling again and this seemed to egg him on. “Like a limp chip left in the oil too long.”

Severus’ lip curled. “Sounds like muggleborn fodder. Something you blood-traitors would know all about.” In a movement so quick it seemed to pass in a blink, Sirius had grasped him by the collar and Severus emitted a sort of terrified squeak much like the one Peter had produced when faced with a broomstick.

“You say blood-traitor like it’s a bad thing.” He said, wrenching Severus’ collar a little higher and forcing him onto his tiptoes.

“S-Sirius.” James said, nonplussed, whilst Peter appeared a cross between terrified and reverent.

“Go on then, Snape. Kneazle got your tongue? Is it or is it not a bad thing?”

There was a tense pause as Severus seemed to assess his options, rain streaming through his eyes as they scanned the courtyard for aid. When none appeared, his lips tightened resolutely.

“A bad thing.” He said, and then spat onto Sirius’ cheek.       

After that everything happened very quickly. Sirius simultaneously dropped Severus like a hot coal and drew back his fist like a coiled spring. Peter covered his head with his hands. James took a bewildered step back, hand flying uselessly to his wand. Two identical cries of “Sev!” and “Sirius!” resounded across the courtyard.

Footsteps bursting like bullet fire across the wet stone made Sirius falter. That and a heavy bag colliding with his arm.

“Bloody hell!” He roared, releasing Severus who stumbled backwards and landed on his backside in a puddle.

“Get off of him!” Lily Evans cried, smacking him a second time with her bag for good measure.

“Lily, calm down!” Remus said from behind her, tugging her arm away from where Sirius was rubbing his shoulder flabbergasted.

“Sirius, are you alright?” Peter gasped.

“Remus, what the hell?” James demanded.

“What do you mean ‘Remus, what the hell?’” Remus said, letting go of Lily as she rushed to help Severus to his feet. “Lily was the one who hit Sirius with a bag!”

“And I’d do it again!” She said, green eyes flashing furiously and hands gripping protectively onto Severus’s robes. “You were going to punch him!”

“He spat in my face!” Sirius insisted, rubbing disgustedly at his cheek.

“Yes, because you were going to punch him!”

“Sirius was only going to punch him _because_ he spat in his face _and_ called him a blood-traitor!” James said indignantly.

“A blood-what? Oh, forget it I don’t care.” Lily said, shaking her head so her wet hair slapped her face. “We’re going. I can’t believe this. I mean, silly name-calling is one thing, but violence?”

“He. Spat. In. My. Face!” Sirius said, a melange of furious and scandalised.

“Yeah, he spat in his face!” Peter reiterated.

“You coming, Remus?” Lily asked, settling her tight grip of Severus’ arm who still looked shell-shocked but was beginning to readopt his smug triumph.

Remus hesitated. “Well… if he did spit in his face…”

“Boys! You’re all hopeless!” Lily snapped, sending a look heavenwards. Then she turned on her heel and marched through the veil of rain into the castle, toting Severus along with her. He shot them one last self-satisfied curl of the lips over his shoulder and they both disappeared.

James, Sirius, Remus and Peter were left standing in the rain. It pattered emptily in the silence.

“Well.” James said eventually, running a hand through his soaked curls. “Bugger that.”


End file.
